


After School Special

by nochick_fics



Series: After School Special [1]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist (Anime 2003)
Genre: Alternate Character Interpretation, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Character Death, F/M, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, One-Sided Attraction, Past Relationship(s), Physical Abuse, Sexual Abuse, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-30
Updated: 2017-04-09
Packaged: 2018-09-20 21:46:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 42
Words: 111,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9517472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nochick_fics/pseuds/nochick_fics
Summary: Principal Roy Mustang finds himself strangely drawn to his school's newest student: a quiet social outcast with a metal arm and leg.





	1. Observation

**Author's Note:**

> This is one of my earliest fics. It was meant to be a relatively quick (and smutty) high school AU, but it ended up becoming so much more than that.

Principal Roy Mustang walked through the empty classroom and crept into a small, adjoining office.  There were ten minutes left in the lunch hour, but he wanted to position himself before the students started to arrive.    
  
Without turning on the light, he pulled the door until it was just barely open.  The room had a large two-way mirror, as did each classroom in the building--something he had always thought was a bit peculiar.   He leaned against the desk and looked out into the classroom, feeling very much the peeping tom.  Unless one of the students came barging into the office, they would not be aware of his presence for the entire duration of the class period, which was his preference.  He wanted the students to act as they normally would whenever he observed the teachers for evaluations.    
  
The door to the classroom opened and Roy, assuming it was Mr. Fuery, popped his head out of the office door to announce his presence.  But instead of the teacher's somewhat childlike and bespectacled gaze, he was met with the burning amber glare of the newest senior class arrival, Edward Elric.    
  
At first, Roy was taken aback by the glare, but he quickly realized that it was not a glare intended for him.  Considering the boy had just returned from lunch, the daily social event of every high school in the world, Roy could only imagine the kind of taunting he must have endured not only today, but every day.  
  
It was well known among the staff that the young man, while showing amazing brilliance in his studies, was a social pariah among his classmates.  The cruelness of teenagers being what it was, there were a number of reasons for Ed's unpopularity:  he was a bit short in stature, barely rivaling many of the girls in the school, and he wore his long blond hair in a braid, further adding to his frequent comparisons to the female form.  But what the students ridiculed him about most, which infuriated Roy to an astonishing degree, was his... disability.   Roy sincerely hated to use the word, even though that was how every other so-called expert chose to define it.    
  
Ed's right arm and left leg were gone, replaced by automail.  Roy had never seen anything like it before.  Through conversations with the boy's teachers, he had come to learn that the students nastily referred to him as "Tin Man."  Roy thought that he would happily and permanently suspend any student he ever discovered calling him that... and then furrowed his eyebrows at the sudden and fierce sensation of protectiveness that overcame him.   He shook off the feeling and returned his attention to the matter at hand.  
  
"Hello, Edward," he said, managing to keep an authoritative tone in spite of how he must have looked, poking his head out of an empty, darkened room.  
  
"Hi," the boy said quietly.  Realizing that Roy was not a fellow student waiting to verbally attack him, he softened his glare but Roy could still see that he was very emotionally defensive-- and rightfully so.    
  
"I'm going to be doing an evaluation of Mr. Fuery," he explained.  
  
"Okay," Ed replied with a shrug.    
  
Roy stared at him for another moment, taking in the sight of his hair, his eyes, and his dingy red-hooded coat, which gave him the appearance of a masculine and slightly ragged-looking Little Red Riding Hood.  He regarded the young man with a small, curt smile and a nod before returning to the darkness of the office.    
  
A bell sounded, signaling the end of the lunch period.  Ed took a seat at his desk and folded his arms on the desktop, taking extra care, Roy noticed, to conceal his automail arm with his real one.  Roy felt a stab in his heart and turned away from the two-way mirror, once again vowing to rain down serious world-renowned Principal Mustang vengeance on any student he caught teasing him. He then mentally reassured himself that he would do the same for any student, any student at all.  
  
It wasn't as if Edward Elric was an exception.  
  
*****  
  
"Would everyone _please_ quiet down?"  
  
Kain Fuery--who was decidedly less butch than the sound of his name, Roy concluded--frantically tried to gain control of his classroom, with little success.  Roy thought briefly about intervening, but decided against it.  If he did, Fuery would be useless as a teacher in his school from that point forward.  Any teacher who needed to rely on the principal to come to their rescue quickly gained a negative reputation and lost respect among the entire student body.   
  
So while Fuery continued trying to take the reins of his classroom, and came progressively closer to forfeiting his pay increase,  Roy found his attention wandering once again to Ed.  The boy had sat studiously the entire period, reading his textbook and listening to the teacher as much as was possible through all of the noise.    
  
A group of particularly annoying wannabe thugs, who had journeyed to and from Roy's office on multiple occasions, were talking amongst themselves and sneaking glances in Ed's direction.  Roy didn't like where this was going.    
  
He didn't like it at all.  
  
_Get a handle on this, Fuery_ , he thought.  But the bumbling man had given up trying to quiet the dissenters and instead concentrated on instructing the few pupils who cared to listen to him.  Interesting strategy.   
  
"Hey Tin Man!  Where's Dorothy?" one of the would-be hooligans called out, prompting many of the students to snicker.  Ed instinctively drew his metal arm closer to his body and stared down at his desk.   
  
Roy felt a tightening in his chest as the first stirrings of anger began to rise within him.  (Had it not been for the situation, he might have been impressed that anyone under the age of thirty was familiar with _The Wizard of Oz_.) No student should be subjected to that kind of insensitive banter.  Especially one with what was considered to be a handicap.  
  
Cries of "Tin Man!" began to rise from the group of bullies who would soon be having an up close and personal meeting with Principal Mustang.  Some of the students began to join in, while a few others had the common decency to be horrified by what was taking place.  
  
_Fuery, if you don't put a stop to this, so help me..._  
  
The cries continued.  Roy made a mental note of the name of every single student participating in the debacle. 

He was about to walk into the classroom, without the least bit of sympathy or concern for Fuery's future effectiveness in the classroom.  Or his future employment, for that matter...  
  
Then everything went silent.    
  
He glanced back through the mirror and was unsure if he should be relieved or nervous about what he was seeing.   
  
Edward Elric was now standing by his desk.  Roy couldn't see his face, but he recognized the heaving of the boy's shoulders for what it was:  
  
Rage.  
  
"Sit down or walk away, Ed," Roy whispered, pleading with the boy.    
  
Ed did neither.  He began to walk in the direction of the offending bullies, who were grinning cheerfully at their accomplishment.  Everyone in the classroom, including the useless, soon-to-be unemployed teacher, watched him with silent interest.  
  
Through the mirror, Roy could see the intent in Ed's eyes and immediately burst out of the office to stop him.  
  
Ed curled his automail hand into a fist--  
  
_"Edward!"_ Roy yelled.  
  
\--and brought it down onto the desk of the lead antagonist, completely obliterating it.  Shards of the wooden desktop flew into the air and the desk's frame crumbled into a twisted metal mass, effectively trapping the now terrified bully inside of it.   
  
Cries of shock and surprise rang out in the classroom.  A few students ran out of the room in fear.  Kain Fuery looked like he might faint.    
  
Ed grabbed the blubbering teenager by the collar with his real hand and presented him with his automail fist.  His friends made a move to stop him but immediately backed away when they saw the very real threat that lurked in Ed's eyes.   
  
"Do you want to see what else this 'Tin Man' can do?" he sneered at the bully, who worked his mouth wordlessly in fear.  
  
"Edward," Roy said softly.  He stood behind the enraged teen and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, wondering what on earth he would do if Ed tried to hit him with that massive metal weapon.    
  
Roy need not have worried.  At the sound of his voice, Ed immediately let go of the kid and turned around, giving him such a look of tormented agony that Roy thought his heart would break.    
  
There was something else present in those pained golden eyes, something stemming from more than just the adolescent taunting.  Roy had an almost insurmountable urge to take the boy in his arms, right then and there, and he actually caught himself moving slightly forward to do that very thing.   
  
It was only with a tremendous force of will that he stopped himself from reaching out to Ed, firmly reminding himself that he was the principal of this school and he had a job to do.  Every eye in the classroom was now on him and, first and foremost, order needed to be restored.  
  
"Edward," he said again, this time a bit more firmly.  "Report to my office.  Right now."


	2. Hesitant Savior

After two straight hours of soothing the jumbled nerves of a group of traumatized students, convincing the police officers summoned by said traumatized students not to arrest Ed, and fielding the first of what would surely be countless phone calls from outraged parents screaming for the boy's head, Roy was finally able to escape into his office with fifteen minutes to spare before the end of the school day.  He closed his eyes and sighed, letting his head clunk against the door behind him. 

He heard a faint shifting noise and opened his eyes, turning his attention towards the root of all the excitement of the past two hours.    
  
Ed sat in one of the two chairs in front of Roy's desk, staring down at the ground.  Roy felt guilty leaving him to sit for so long, but there was also no way in hell he intended to throw the boy to the wolves waiting to devour him.  Nor was he going to let Ed go home without speaking to him first.  
  
He walked over to his desk and sat down in the plush, leather chair, resting his elbows on the desktop.  He stared at the top of Ed's downturned head, and was promptly overcome with an urge to sweep his bangs out of his eyes.     
  
Roy cleared his throat, pushing away the mental image of smoothing the boy's hair back and wondering how it would feel between his fingers… although the thought didn’t disappear completely. 

As he opened his mouth to speak, Roy was caught off guard by the teenager’s small, still voice.

“I’m sorry I made trouble for you,” Ed whispered softly.  He nervously picked at the sole of his boot, refusing to meet Roy’s eyes.  

Roy titled his head slightly, looking at the top of the intriguing teen’s head.  Here, in this day and age of school violence, he had just caused a state of panic among his classmates and yet he was apologizing for ruining Roy’s day.  He couldn’t deny that it touched him and he pursed his lips to block the smile that had begun spread across his face. 

He wanted to tell Ed that he had absolutely no reason to apologize, that those bullies got exactly what they deserved, and that he did absolutely nothing wrong. 

Instead, he said, “What’s done is done.”

_What’s done is done?  What the hell was that?_ Roy thought. 

Roy cleared his throat for a second time and started over.  “So what happened?”

Only then did Ed look up.  Roy was again struck by the look in the boy’s golden-colored eyes, eyes that looked like they had seen more than any seventeen-year-old should ever have to see in such a short span of existence. 

“You were there,” Ed said.  “You saw what happened.”

“And now I want you to tell me,” Roy responded.  “In your own words.” 

“There’s nothing to tell,” Ed said, turning his gaze away from Roy’s and staring down at his leg.  “I just…”

“Just what?” Roy gently prodded him.

“I just… couldn’t… take it anymore.”  The young man began picking at his boot again and mumbled something that Roy could not hear.

“What did you say?” he asked. 

Ed sighed.  Even with his head down, Roy could see crinkles in his forehead and knew the boy was frowning, but he didn’t think it was directed at him. 

“I said they’re not even _tin_.” 

Even though Ed was too busy concentrating on his feet to see his face, Roy covered his mouth with his hand to conceal a smirk.  He had a strong suspicion that Edward Elric was completely oblivious to his own cleverness. 

“Well, Edward,” Roy began.  “Bullies aren’t usually known for their intelligence.”

The picking fingers paused.  Ed slowly looked up and met the eyes of his principal. 

The corner of his mouth twitched slightly.  It was the closest thing to a smile that Roy had ever seen coming from the young man. 

He felt a cautious ray of hope.  If he could just keep getting Ed to open up, inch by inch, then maybe--

The door to the office burst open and slammed against the wall with a large bang, causing both Roy and Ed to jump in their seats.  Roy glared at the intruder, furious for the interruption, especially since he was finally making a tentative connection with the troubled teenager.

Jean Havoc, the school’s physical education teacher, bounded into the office, followed immediately by Roy’s secretary, Sheska. 

“Roy--!” Jean started.  He glanced down at Ed, who had all but hunched over in his seat at the intrusion. 

“I’m sorry, Mr. Mustang, I strictly told him you were not to be disturbed!” Sheska exclaimed.  She gave him a worried look but Roy found no fault with her; when Jean wanted his way, he kept going until he got it.

It was a fact that Roy knew all too well. 

“ _Mister_ Havoc,” Roy said, struggling to keep his voice calm for Ed’s sake.  “My door was closed for a reason.”

Jean stood stubbornly in the office doorway, making absolutely no attempt to leave.  Roy clenched his teeth and glanced at Edward, who sat quietly with his head down and his arms folded protectively across his stomach.  Roy noticed again the lengths the young man took to conceal his prosthetic and it made his heart ache. 

Just when he was positive that Ed would have opened his emotional window for him, even just a little bit,  Jean Havoc’s uninvited outburst had effectively slammed it shut.

For that, Roy hated him.  As if he needed _another_ reason. 

Turning his attention to his secretary, he smiled reassuringly.  “Thank you, Sheska,” he said.  “I’ll take it from here.”

Her eyes darted knowingly between the two men before she exited the office.   In them, Roy could see the confirmation of her suspicions and he was perturbed with Jean all the more for his brazenly presumptuous attitude in such a public setting. 

“Edward, I’ll be right back,” he said softly. 

Roy stood up and walked around the desk.  As he approached the doorway, he favored Jean with an ice cold glare before walking out into the hallway. 

*****

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Roy asked quietly.  He stood in front of the closed door to his office and stared at his employee and former lover, careful to keep a considerable amount of distance between them. 

“I heard that this kid went crazy and started attacking people, so I came to see if you were alright.”  Jean smirked and leaned against the wall in a most unprofessionally casual way. 

“Bullshit,” Roy whispered.

He glanced past Jean’s shoulder and saw Sheska watching them.  Upon being discovered, she quickly ducked her head and pretended to be fascinated with her computer monitor.  Roy shook his head; this was the last thing he needed.

“Listen to me, Jean,” Roy began, his voice full of warning.  “We are finished.  Unless it is work-related, you are not to talk to me.  So stop finding every pathetic excuse you can think of to come to my office.”

“Well aren’t you the big man in charge… at _work_ , anyway.”

Jean smirked again and at that moment Roy would have given just about anything for some automail of his own.

“I’m not going to tell you again.”  Roy gave the arrogant man a final, scathing glare before walking back into his office. 

Jean Havoc stared at the closed door as the final bell of the day rang and students began to pour into the hallways. 

“It’s not over, Roy,” he softly.  “Not until _I_ say so.”   

*****

Roy sat back down at his desk.  Ed looked around uncomfortably, and Roy knew he would soon want to leave… which led him to the moment he had wanted to avoid most the entire afternoon.

Grabbing a pen, he flipped over and frantically signed some forms that were lying on his desk. 

“Now, in regards to punishment,” Roy began evenly, not wanting even a hint of emotion to be reflected in his voice.  “Please keep in mind that by all rights, I could expel you for what happened today.”

Ed nodded reluctantly, waiting for his sentence.

“I’m giving you three days suspension,” Roy said, watching the boy carefully for any reaction.  He hated that he had to punish Ed at all, let alone suspend him for three whole days.  But since he had additionally suspended the name callers for one day, and Ed had actually done physical damage to school property, his punishment had to be steeper. 

Roy folded the forms and sealed them in an envelope.  He slid the envelope across the desk to Ed, who looked questioningly at it. 

“They have to know?” Ed asked.  His voice had taken on an edge of fear that caused Roy to take notice. 

He immediately realized that Ed’s problem wasn’t in the punishment itself, but in having his parents find out about it.  After working with teenagers for years, Roy knew the drill.  Ed would have gotten up every morning during his suspension, left his house for eight hours, and come home at the usual time, with his parents being none the wiser.  It was precisely the reason he had been the one to initiate mutual communication for school suspensions, as opposed to the old form letters that mysteriously never made it to their parental destination.  He had always considered it one of his better administrative decisions… until now.

Roy was horrified to see the teenager’s trembling hand reach out to grab the envelope.  His eyes had once again taken on that terrified glaze that Roy could hardly bear to look at. 

The envelope fluttered in the boy’s hand.  He was shaking all over. 

What was going on in the boy’s home that caused him such fear?

“I’m sorry,” Ed said again, standing to leave. 

“Wait!” Roy said, dropping his reserved façade.

“What?”

“I’ll take you home,” he announced suddenly, to even his own surprise.   

Ed looked suspiciously at the principal.  “Why?”

Roy racked his mind for a decent excuse. 

“Because… after everything that’s happened today, I just think it’s safer if you don’t walk home alone,” he said.  “You don’t know if any of those boys might be waiting for you.”

“I can take care of myself,” Ed insisted.

“I’m not implying that you can’t, Edward.  But I think its best for today.” 

Roy could sense the boy’s mind turning, trying to figure him out…

“Okay,” Ed finally relented. 

Roy exhaled a sigh of relief, unaware he had even been holding his breath.

*****

“Take a left at the next light.  It’ll be the third house on the right.”

In order to prolong the car ride, Roy drove just under the speed limit--much to the displeasure of his car's massive V8 engine.  He had tried to engage the young man in conversation during the trip, but a deep and meaningful discussion was impossible where eye contact, even if it was only one-sided, could not be maintained. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Ed nervously picking at the envelope containing all the sordid details of his classroom outburst. 

Roy had worked with children and teenagers for a long time now; he knew all of the signs. 

However.  There were procedures for these kinds of things… legalities… he couldn’t just act on a premonition.  No matter how overwhelming it was.

Could he?

Roy could not shake the growing, dreadful feeling that time was running out.

As he approached the light, it turned red.  He stopped and put on the left turn signal.

Ed unbuckled his seatbelt and clutched the envelope in his hand. He let out a long, shuddering sigh that hurt Roy’s heart.  He shut his eyes against the sound and came to a decision.

“God damn it,” he whispered. 

“Mr. Mustang?” Ed said.

Roy opened his eyes just as the light turned green and the driver in the truck behind him honked his horn. 

He switched off the turn signal and drove straight through the intersection.

Ed gave Roy a cautious look.  “You missed the turn.”

“It would appear so.”  Roy didn’t take his eyes off the road. 

“Why?”

Roy took a deep breath. 

“Because I don’t know if I could live with myself if anything happened to you over a stupid three day suspension.” 

He could feel the boy’s golden eyes crawling over him, questioning him, gauging him, wanting to trust, wanting to believe…

“If you want me to take you home, say the word and I’ll turn around right now,” Roy concluded.

He continued to drive, leaving Ed to make his decision. 

After a moment, he heard the sound of a fastening seatbelt.     
  
Roy smiled in relief.  For that one moment, he thought he had never heard a lovelier sound.  


	3. Roy

Roy Mustang’s home was a quaint two-story house nestled deep within a quiet subdivision.  But in spite of the cozy charm of the house’s exterior, the interior was a bastion of technology.  In the living room, a large, high definition television comprised almost half of one wall by itself, complete with a theater style sound system and a vast library of DVDs, Blu-rays, and CDs.  Walking around in awe, Ed spotted Roy’s collection of video game systems, from Playstations and Xboxes to the now archaic Nintendo Gamecube. 

Roy watched the teenager look around with all the wonder of a child in an amusement park and was pleased.  It made him happy to know that someone could derive joy from his things.  He had not purchased them out of any particular need or want; he had simply wanted to fill the own void in his life left by--

“Mr. Mustang?”

“Hm?” Roy was glad for the interruption. 

Ed looked shyly down at his feet.  “Is it okay… if… later…I could….” His downcast eyes shifted towards the guitar-shaped controller for the Guitar Hero video game. 

Roy grinned.  “Of course, Edward.  You can play whatever you want.”

“Thank you.” The depth of the young man’s voice signified a deeper gratitude than simply being allowed to play a game. 

“You’re welcome,” Roy said.  He turned away from Ed, as much to hide his own emotions as to let the boy continue looking around. 

Setting down his briefcase and walking upstairs, Roy shrugged off his suit jacket and tie, and unfastened the first few buttons of his shirt. He stepped into his bedroom and tossed the jacket and tie onto his bed before going to a closet to grab bedding for the spare bedroom.

He walked out of the room and into the second bedroom of the house, trying not to think about the last person who used it. 

After making the bed, he walked back down the stairs, pausing at the foot when he saw what Ed was looking at.  With a tired sigh, he entered the living room and went over to the teen. 

A collection of framed photographs sat on a small table in the corner of the room.  Ed was currently holding the largest of these in his hands, looking at the faces that had happily posed so very long ago.

Ed glanced up at Roy and immediately returned the photograph to the table. 

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly. 

“We really need to work on your excessive need to apologize, Edward.” Roy picked up the picture and held it out so they could both see it.  “If you’re going to be staying here, I don’t expect you not to look at anything.”

In the photo, a man with short black hair, square-framed glasses, and a thin line of facial hair along the outline of his jaw was holding a little girl with pigtails.  The man posed with a friendly smirk while the little girl smiled cheerfully.

“Who are they?” Ed inquired.

Roy stared at the picture for a moment before saying, “My family.”

Ed glanced at Roy, who took a deep breath before continuing. 

“His name is Maes,” Roy explained, pointing at the man’s smirking face.  “He was my partner.”

“Oh.”  Ed turned back to the picture as Roy’s finger trailed down to the little girl.

“Her name is Elysia.  She’s Maes’ daughter… but I always thought of her as mine, too.”

“Where…?” Ed began, not wanting to be too nosy. 

“Maes died a few years ago.  In a car accident.”  Roy stared sadly at the photo.  “I had no legal rights to Elysia… even though I helped to raise her and she even called me--”

Roy couldn’t bring himself to say the word.  He cleared his throat and continued. 

“Anyway… after Maes died her mother came and got her… and I haven’t seen her since.” He placed the photo back on the table.  “I get pictures and cards, though,” he said, as if that made up for it. 

Staring at the faces of his lost family, Roy could feel Ed’s gaze upon him.  For the moment, it was too much for him to bear and he quickly changed the subject.

“So what would you like for dinner?”  Roy walked into the kitchen and began rummaging through the pantry, nosing through various boxed items.  “I can’t promise you that I’m much of a cook, but I haven’t killed myself yet, so that’s saying something.”

Standing in front of the open pantry door, Roy paused as he felt a hand ease gently into his. 

Ed’s hand was small, soft, and warm.  Roy shut his eyes against the sting of tears, finding it ironic that his own personal tragedy was all it took to get him to open up.  He tightened his hold on Ed’s hand and caressed the boy’s wrist with his thumb.

After a few minutes, Roy sniffed and cleared his throat.  He stared down into Ed’s beautiful golden eyes with a grin. 

“Can you cook?” he asked. 

For the first time since Roy met him, Edward Elric smiled.  It was a thing to behold. 

*****

“Sorry it’s so plain in here; I don’t use this room anymore,”  Roy explained as he pulled back the comforter for Ed.  “You’re the first person who’s slept in here since Elysia.”

Dinner had been… edible.  Afterwards, Roy had curled up on the couch with a book while Ed played Guitar Hero.  Later, after bathing, Ed gave Roy his first lesson in automail dynamics; the man was not aware that it would not rust, which Ed had found particularly amusing.  Although he had a ton of work to do as well as an 8am staff meeting the next day, Roy had been unwilling to tear himself away from Ed’s presence. 

The teenager was now wearing a borrowed T-shirt and pair of shorts, both of which hung down loosely on his small frame.  His took no self-conscious measures to hide his automail appendages, to Roy’s great delight. 

“It’s okay,” Ed said, crawling into the bed.  He lay on his back and pulled the comforter up to his chest. 

Roy stared down at him, smiling kindly.  He bent over and pulled the comforter up a bit more.  He then sat down on the edge of the bed.

“I want you to stay inside tomorrow,” he instructed.  “I’ll leave some money on the kitchen table so you can order a pizza or whatever you want, because I really don’t feel like having my house burn down after tonight’s close call.”

Ed grinned.  Roy still marveled at the sight of this boy who, only hours earlier, had been seemingly terrified for his life. 

“I’d like to… talk tomorrow, if that’s alright with you,” Roy said. 

A worried frown appeared on Ed’s face, but he nodded. 

“Only what you want me to know,” Roy reassured him. 

“Okay.”

Roy stared at him, unable to break away from that gaze.  As he had so badly wanted to do today in his office, he reached out and pushed a runaway lock of Ed’s blond hair behind his ear, letting his fingers casually graze the boy’s face as he did so. 

“Goodnight, Edward,” he said softly.

Reluctantly pulling away, he moved to get out off the bed.  Before he was able to stand up, he felt a strong hand grab onto him.

He turned around to face the teen.  “What is it, Edw--?”

His question was cut off by a kiss.  He gasped through his nose, with wide open eyes, as the young man’s lips brushed against his. 

Breaking away from him, Ed placed his head back onto the pillow, blushing furiously. 

Roy raised a startled hand to his lips and stared down into Ed’s crimson face. 

“I-- I’m sorry,” Ed stammered, terrified by Roy’s reaction and assuming he had done something horribly out of line.  “I didn’t mean to--“

The flustered teen turned onto his side, away from Roy. 

Roy slowly removed his hand, still feeling Ed's touch.

“Edward.  Look at me.”

At first, he didn’t move.  Roy opened his mouth to speak again when Ed heaved a long sigh and turned onto his back, looking fearfully  into Roy’s face. 

“I’m sorry,” he said regretfully.  “Just forget it happened.”

Roy took Ed’s chin in his hands, caressing his cheek with his fingers. “Why would I want to do that?”

He leaned over and touched his lips to Ed’s, softly nibbling at his mouth.  Roy could feel the body beneath him jerk in surprise and moan softly. 

He teased languidly at Ed’s lips and was rewarded with a timid hand being placed on his shoulder. 

Roy moved his body onto the bed and stretched out next to the young man, feeling the contrast between his cool automail and his warm flesh.   He pressed his lips deeper into Ed’s, prompting another moan to escape the boy’s throat as he parted his lips to Roy’s kiss.  The hand on Roy’s shoulder tightened its grip.

Ed timidly touched the inside of Roy’s lip with his tongue.  Roy’s closed eyes squeezed even more tightly shut at the sensation and he suppressed a moan of his own.  He brought his tongue up to Ed’s and gently lapped at it.  The young man inhaled sharply and raised his chin in response, pushing himself deeper into Roy’s mouth and twirling his tongue around Roy’s with more confidence.

That time, Roy could not hold back moaning.  The hand that was caressing Ed’s cheek moved down to his neck, over his shoulder, and slowly across his chest, gently stroking his nipple.  Roy felt the boy shiver helplessly in response and, wanting to be sure, pulled away from his mouth and raised his head in concern.

“Is this okay?” he asked.

Still shuddering, Ed looked into Roy’s face with tortured eyes that begged not to be hurt. 

“It’s alright as long as it’s you,” Ed whispered. 

Roy’s eyebrows drew together in a frown.

_It’s alright as long as it’s you._

Meaning there were times when it wasn’t him.  Just how many times?  And with whom?

Roy sighed harshly, pushing his own need out of his mind.  He bent his head down and placed it on Ed’s chest, wrapping his arms around him and hugging him closely. 

He did not think himself a violent person, not at all, but at that moment he would have gladly killed those responsible for destroying the spirit of the young man in his arms.

Roy felt the same timid hand came to a rest on top of his head, and it soothed his angry mind.  He smiled to himself as he felt fingers begin to intertwine with his hair. He then closed his eyes and pressed his head further into Ed’s torso.

“Mr. Mustang?” 

Roy grinned.  He raised his head and rested his chin on the young man’s chest, looking up at him in adoration. 

“Edward,” he said.  “I think we’re at the point where you can start calling me Roy.”

Roy leaned forward and placed one final kiss on his lips before easing out of the bed.  

“Try and get some rest,” he said kindly.  "Goodnight."

“Goodnight…” Ed blushed some more. “Roy.”

*****

After turning out the light and shutting the door behind him, Roy slowly made his way to his office.  He had to prepare a quick agenda for tomorrow morning’s meeting, even though it was the last thing on his mind.  

He sat down at his desk and rested his head against the back of the chair, replaying the day’s events in his head.  He brought his fingers to his mouth again, recalling the touch of Ed’s lips.

In spite of the universe of trouble he had potentially brought upon himself because of the young man sleeping upstairs, Roy Mustang smiled. 

He did not know what consequences the next few days would bring. What he did know, however, was that he was happy. 

For the first time in years, he was finally happy again.    
  
Even if it was just for tonight.  
 _  
_

 


	4. Meet the Parents

The weekly Friday morning teacher’s meeting was as uneventful as ever.  Roy managed to rush through his prepared list of topics with minimal interruptions and, after fielding the usual staff questions with the usual lip service answers, he ended the gathering fifteen minutes earlier than normal.  Quickly making himself scarce afterwards, he rushed back to his office to address the situation that awaited him when he arrived that morning. 

Five phone calls.

Izumi Curtis, Ed’s foster mother, had made _five phone calls_ to his office. 

Roy spread the five yellow “While You Were Out” slips across his desktop like a poker player showing a winning hand.  The first call had come at 6:45 a. m.; Sheska had handed him the phone messages with a look of understandable apprehension.

Since going to bed last night, he’d had much time to ponder how he would face this new day, one in which a wrong move or answer could cost him not only the rest of his career, but  his freedom as well.  Ed was abused, brutalized in a way that he did not want to begin to think about; there was no doubt in his mind about that.  But what Roy had done yesterday was nothing short of kidnapping, even with Ed’s consent.

And aside from that, there was…

He pushed away the memory of Ed’s kiss.  Now was not the time.

Roy tapped his fingers on the desk while he considered his dilemma.

In the eyes of the law, he was just as guilty as Ed’s parents, if not more so--he was just the boy’s principal after all, not his legal guardian.  Just a stranger with candy, luring in a troubled teen with muscle cars and video games.

Roy knew that he had only two choices: He could deliver Ed back into the grasp of his abusers or he could fight to save him, no matter the cost. 

Whichever he chose, he had to act fast.

He picked up the phone and dialed the number left by Izumi Curtis. 

*****

The bed felt like heaven; it was the nicest one he had ever slept in. 

Ed stared up at the ceiling, trying to ignore the dull panic that had settled into him now that the magic hour had passed.  He had purposely turned off his cell phone yesterday to avoid having to hear from them but now…

After taking one final moment to drown himself in the bed’s satiny comfort, Ed tumbled out of the sheets.  He stretched long and lazily, listening to the sporadic creaking and cracking of his joints.  He made the bed as best he could; it was not something he normally did at home, but he wanted to keep Roy’s things as neat as possible. 

Glancing at the top of the dresser against the wall, he saw that the clothes he wore yesterday had been washed, dried, and were now folded neatly and awaiting him. 

_When did he have time to do that?_ Ed’s smile of thoughtful consideration turned into wide-eyed horror.

_That means he saw my underwear!_

He briefly considered the rationale of his underwear embarrassment, considering he had been prepared to let the man see much more than that last night, but he pushed the thought out of his mind. Now was not the time.

After getting dressed, Ed walked into the bathroom where Roy had laid out some toiletries for him.  When he finished brushing his teeth, he brushed and braided his long, blond hair. 

He walked downstairs into the silence of the living room.  No longer able to prolong the inevitable, Ed retrieved the cell phone from the pocket of his coat, which was hanging on a rack by the door. 

He walked over to the couch and sat down, curling his feet under him.  Sighing heavily, he turned the phone on. The melodic greeting was immediately followed by the frantic chiming of voice message notifications. Six, to be exact. 

Ed shuddered involuntarily before he even began to play them. 

_“Ed!  Where the hell are you?  Don’t tell me you’re too dumb to find your way ho-!“_

_Your message has been deleted._

_“Where the fuck are y-!“_

_Your message has been deleted._

_“If you’re at that little slut Winry’s house, I’m gonna beat your ass and her-!“_

_Your message has been deleted._

_“You goddamn assho-!“_

_Your message has been deleted._

_“So help me God, Ed, if you’re not home in ten minutes I’m gonna ki!-“_

_Your message has been deleted._

_“YOU FUCKING SHORT LITTLE PIECE OF SH-!!”_

_Your message has been deleted._

Ed dropped the phone and gripped the sides of his head, trying to keep Izumi’s cruel words from permeating his mind. 

He stayed that way for a very long time.

*****

Roy pulled into the school parking lot after taking a longer lunch than usual.  Killing the ignition, he sat in the car, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel and thinking very much about the plan he had set into motion.   

He glanced over at the briefcase sitting on the passenger seat, and drummed his fingers even faster.  There was no point in reconsidering things too far gone to take back. 

He pulled out his cell phone and dialed a number.

“Come on, pick up,” he whispered, listening to the sound of ringing.  “Please, pick up.”

As if on cue, a deep, gruff voice came on the line. 

“Armstrong.”

Roy closed his eyes and let out a sigh of relief. 

“Hey, Lou,” he said.  “It’s Roy.  Got a second?”

The man on the other end let out a hearty laugh.  “For you?  Absolutely.”

“Thanks. Listen, Lou.  This is important.”

 The man’s voice immediately became serious and attentive.  “What’s going on, Roy?”

 “… I need your help.”

*****

The rest of the school day went by quickly and with little incident, for which Roy was grateful.  His mind had been too preoccupied to deal with anything of substance. 

He sat in one of the empty portable classrooms on the far end of the school's main building, away from the prying eyes and ears of his staff and conveniently located near an adjoining street.  He turned his head and glanced out of the window.  He reaffirmed what he’d hoped to see out there and breathed a little easier.  He nudged the briefcase by his foot as if to confirm it hadn’t grown legs and walked away. 

And then he waited. 

A few minutes after 4p.m., Sheska escorted Izumi and Sig Curtis into the classroom. Izumi was a woman with a hardened look; Roy was convinced that if she ever smiled, her face would split in two. Her husband Sig was… a beast.  Roy had to make a conscious effort not to gape at the sheer volume of him.  He only knew of one other person who was so impossibly large…

He stood up to greet them.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Curtis, Mrs. Curtis,” he said, extending his hand. Neither of them shook it.

They each sat down in a chair.  Roy was not sure if Sig would be able to pull himself out of his.

“What the fuck has he done now and where is he?” Izumi barked, causing Sheska to nearly jump out of her skin.

Roy gave his secretary a sympathetic smile.  “Thank you, Sheska.  I’ll see you on Monday.”

The young woman nodded nervously, sparing the couple a frightened glance before exiting the room.  When he initially explained to her that he was meeting Ed’s parents in an unused classroom, she was understandably confused.  Roy had quickly explained to her that he was doing so not to draw attention to the exaggerated events of the day before, a false excuse she readily accepted. 

After Sheska was gone, Roy sat down and put on his principal’s mask.  Years of working as an education administrator had honed his ability to interact with others without emoting; he was aware that he was known among teachers and parents alike for his brooding and lack of sympathy, although that was really the furthest thing from his true personality. Sometimes.

“Thank you for meeting with me,” he began with a small nod. 

“Yeah, okay, we don’t have all day,” Izumi snapped. 

“Just tell us where Ed is so we can go get him.”  Sig’s voice was deep and booming; it would be hard for anyone, let alone a scared teenager, not to be terrified of him.

Roy stared patiently at the couple, convinced that he had never hated two people more in his entire life. 

“I’m sorry to keep you,” he began.  “I just wanted to meet with you face to face to explain the situation.”

“We know the situation,” Izumi said.

“One of the neighbor girls said that he busted up his classroom the other day,” Sig added. 

“We’re not paying for that!” Izumi chimed in.  “So if that’s what you called us here for you can fucking forget it.”

“That isn’t why I asked you to meet with me--” Roy began.

“Where is he?” Sig insisted.

Diplomacy was obviously not going to work.  Roy sighed and went for broke. “It came to my attention yesterday that Edward has been the victim of abuse.”

The couple’s pompous expressions faltered. 

“What the hell are you talking about?  What the fuck did he say?”  Izumi demanded to know.

“The boy lies constantly.  He just wants attention,” Sig added.

“Where is he?” Izumi asked. 

“He is in a safe place--” Roy started.

 “What the fuck do you mean a safe place?  We’re his goddamn parents--”

“--and he will remain in that safe place--”

“Who do you think you are?”

“Izumi, settle down,” Sig whispered.

 “--until he graduates from high school,” Roy concluded through the barrage. 

“Look Mister,” Sig said, leaning forward.  “That’s our boy.  You can’t just keep him way from us.”

“I’m calling the cops,” Izumi insisted.

“Actually, I’ve gone through the trouble of calling the police for you,” Roy said, to their absolute shock.

He stood up and walked over to the window, pulling down a blind with his finger. 

Outside, in a parked squad car, Lou Armstrong sat and watched the classroom.  His massive, muscular body filled the entire driver’s side of the car.  Roy heard Izumi gasp and he smiled to himself. 

“That is Officer Alex Louis Armstrong, whose family has performed dutifully in public service for generations.” Roy turned around and glared at Ed’s foster parents. “Shall I call him in?  Tell him everything I know?  Perhaps arrange for a meeting between him and Edward?”

Izumi and Sig could only exchange nervous glances.

Roy released the blind and returned to his seat. He grabbed the briefcase and set it on the desk in front of him. “Look,” he said.  “What I am asking is very simple. I won’t initiate an investigation into these accusations on one condition.”

The couple was quiet.  What could they say?

“You will leave Edward alone.  Do not see him.  Do not call him.  You can continue to collect your government paycheck for being the 'caring' foster parents that you are, in addition to this.” Roy slid the briefcase over to them. 

Sig cracked it open.  Roy could see both pairs of eyes widen by what they saw inside. 

“I am going to match your monthly compensation towards his care for the time remaining until his eighteenth birthday.  This should cover all three months."

Their eyes were still glued to the inside of the briefcase.  Roy reached forward and slammed it shut, almost catching Izumi’s fingers in the process.

“Although highly unlikely, in the event that one of his teachers should need to contact you regarding anything school-related, you will pass that information on to me.  Any information pertinent to Edward’s well-being, you will pass on to me.  And when he turns eighteen and your parental obligation has expired, you will forget he ever existed.”

“What the hell is any of this to you?”  Izumi asked incredulously, though finding her gaze continually drawn to the briefcase.  “Why the hell are you doing all this for some banged-up kid that nobody gives a shit about?  What are you, some kinda pervert?”

It was then that Roy knew she had no idea. 

“What an ironic thing to ask…”  Roy favored Sig with a baleful look. “… considering what I know.”

Sig’s eyes widened slightly and he turned away from Roy’s glare.  He stood up suddenly, just managing to release his considerable girth from the chair. 

“Let’s go, Izumi,” he said, grabbing her purse and emptying the contents of Roy’s briefcase into it. 

Izumi stared up at her husband in surprise.  “What?  What is it?”

“You want him?  He’s yours,” Sig said, refusing to look at Roy or his wife.  He slammed the briefcase closed and shoved it back across the desk. 

“Sig?  What are you doing?”  Izumi’s spiteful composure had given way to confusion.

“Just shut up, take this, and let’s go.”  Sig grabbed her by the arm and pulled her out of her seat, pushing her purse at her.

“We’re in agreement then?” Roy asked.

He felt such a strong wave of hatred from Sig that he had little doubt if they were anywhere else, the man would have attacked him.

“What’s going on?” Izumi asked Sig.   She looked to Roy’s eyes for answers and found none.

Sig stormed out of the room with a still questioning Izumi in tow, slamming the door shut behind them.

Overcome, Roy leaned forward on the desk and with his head bent down, breathing heavily.  After a few minutes, he raised his head and ran his hands through his black hair.  He gazed at the empty briefcase on top of the desk and frowned.  Looking at it turned his stomach and he pushed it into wastebasket near the desk. 

It was too bad, really; he had liked that one a lot. 

*****

“Am I better off not knowing what that was all about?”

Roy Mustang and Lou Armstrong stood side by side in the empty school parking lot.  Armstrong towered over Roy in size and strength; to this day it was hard for Roy to believe that there had ever been a time when he had actually been bigger and taller than his childhood friend.

“Yes,” Roy stated honestly.  “But think of it this way…” 

He smiled gratefully at Lou and patted him on the arm.

“You just helped to save a life.”

*****

In the end, Roy thought it was best that he did not know during his meeting with Izumi and Sig what he knew now.  Because he would have very likely been the one that Lou hauled off to jail. 

Thirteen years of every type of abuse imaginable, moving from town to town before suspicion grew too strong… Roy made a solemn vow to prevent Izumi and Sig Curtis from ever taking another foster child into their care for the rest of their lives. 

“Roy?”

They were sitting on opposite ends of the living room couch, in front of the blank television.  Two hours had passed since Ed had begun spinning the horrors of his life with Izumi and Sig Curtis.

Ed gave Roy a worried glance.  “Do you think I’m… gross?”

“Of course not,” Roy said softly.  “Come here.”

Moving closer to the older man, Ed laid his head on Roy’s thigh.  Roy moved his arm to give him better access, resting it on the boy’s automail shoulder. 

“I don’t understand why you’re doing this for me,” the young man said in a small voice.

Roy bent over and kissed his cheek.  “Because you’re worth doing it for,” he whispered. 

Although Roy couldn’t see his face, he felt Ed's smile against his leg.

“I don’t have any money for rent or anything like that,” Ed warned him.

“Don't worry about that right now.  I just want you to concentrate on school and ignoring the assholes who tease you.”

Ed chuckled.  “You said a swear word.”

“That tends to happen when I'm not being a principal.”

“I really don’t have to go back there…” Ed said in amazement.

 Roy smiled as he felt a hand move to his knee and grip it tightly.

*****

Of course he hadn’t told Ed exactly _how_ it came to be that he would be allowed to stay with him.  And the young man was intuitive enough not to ask too many questions about it.  A true case of don't ask, don't tell if ever there was.

Roy realized that they would have to continue being careful with regards to their living arrangement, at least until Ed turned eighteen.  If Izumi and Sig were going to hold up their end of the bargain by remaining Ed’s guardians in name only, then he would have to make sure that no one ever discovered Ed was living there with him in the meantime.  He was useless to the boy if he was without a job. 

It was not going to be easy going over the next few of months.  But the worst of the storm, thankfully, seemed to have passed them by.

*****

Later that night, a barefoot Ed quickly hop-stepped on the cold walkway to Roy’s car to grab a pile of file folders from the passenger seat.   Any excuse to get close to that fine piece of automobile.  The thing sounded like a lion; Ed remembered hearing it loud and clear that morning when Roy had left for school.  Vaguely wondering what became of the man’s briefcase, Ed piled the folders in his arm and closed the door with his other hand. 

As he hop-stepped back into the house, he saw the taillights of a passing car flicker out of the corner of his eye.  He paid it no mind at all.

*****

A small circle of orange ember glowed in the darkness of the car.

At first, he thought it was a chick. 

Short body, long blond hair… who wouldn’t think so?

But chicks didn't have metal arms or legs.  At least not any of the chicks that he knew. 

Jean Havoc chewed on the filter of his cigarette and took one long last glance in the rear-view mirror before exiting the quiet subdivision.  
  
After a while, he began to smile. 


	5. The Calm

“Clothes?”  Ed blinked sleepily and scratched his head, saying the word as if he had no idea what it meant.

“Yes,” Roy said, taking a sip from a cup of black coffee.  “Unless it pleases you to wear the same thing every day, you’re going to need new clothes.”

“I have clothes at ho- Izumi’s.”

Roy had already considered retrieving Ed’s things from the Curtis house but decided against it.  It was best if it still _looked_ as if Ed lived there, even if he didn’t.  He shook his head in disagreement.

“There’s an outlet mall a few towns over, about an hour away.  We can go there.”

“I really don’t want you to have to spend any more money on me, Roy,” Ed said, contemplating how easily the man’s name now rolled off his tongue like they had been on a first name basis for years. 

“Consider it a loan.”  Roy stood up.  He finished off his coffee and took their breakfast plates into the kitchen. 

Ed grinned sheepishly.  “How about loaning me your car then?”

Loud laughter rang out from the kitchen. 

“Don’t hold your breath,” Roy called out.

*****

At first, Ed was very reluctant to pick out clothing, meticulously inspecting each price tag and refusing to choose things that he considered to be too expensive.  It was only until Roy--purposely eyeing some polo shirts and Dockers-esque pants that didn’t agree with the boy’s style at all--threatened to pick for him that Ed decided to grab a few lesser expensive pieces.

During their browsing, the boy’s startled eyes happened upon a long-sleeved black top with white trim and a silver metal clasp at the collar.  He ran his hand along the sleeve's soft fabric and scrutinized the price tag.  His eyes widened again for a different reason and he dropped it.

“That suits you,” Roy said.  “Get it.”

“It’s way too much,” Ed countered. 

Roy checked the price and, considering what he spent on his own wardrobe, surmised that Ed had no idea on earth what “too much” really was.  He grabbed it and moved on.

“Come on,” he said.

After shopping, they grabbed a bite to eat at a local family-style restaurant.  As Roy ate, he reflected that this would not be something they would be able to do closer to home.  At least, not yet.  If they could just make it past the next few months…

He ignored the pinpricks of doubt that began to poke at his conscience, focusing instead on the look of total and utter happiness on Ed’s face.  He had done the right thing.

He was sure of it.

Absolutely sure.

*****

“I was _not_ scared!”

“Oh, I think you were, just a little bit. “

Ed entered the bedroom with a scowl while Roy followed behind him, smirking.  They dropped the bags from their shopping excursion onto Ed’s bed. 

They had gone to see a movie after eating lunch, a frightfully graphic and blood-filled horror movie that Ed had insisted on seeing.  Roy warned that it might be too much for him, but Ed puffed up his chest and strutted into the theater liked he owned it.

Roy lost count of how many times the boy had nearly jumped out of his seat.

“Well…” Ed began, searching for a suitable explanation for his jumpiness. 

Roy walked over to the pouting teenager and wrapped him in his arms.

“I thought it was cute,” he said lovingly.

“Hmph.”  Ed’s pouting quickly melted away in Roy’s embrace.  He clasped his fingers around the back of the man’s neck and leaned into his chest, deeply inhaling his cologne. 

“You always smell so good,” he murmured into Roy’s shirt, nuzzling against him.

“Thank you.”  Roy’s arms tightened around him.

They remained that way for minutes, locked in a stationary dance.  Roy didn’t think it was possible to hold the boy any closer without crushing him.

Closing his eyes, he gently rubbed the small of Ed’s back and rested his chin on the top of the young man’s head, enjoying the feel of the body in his arms, the feel of Ed’s fingers caressing the back of his neck, the feel of his breath through Roy’s shirt, the feel of his--

Roy’s eyes flew open.  

He could feel it against his thigh, hard and urgent, and was helpless against his body’s own natural response. 

“Edward…” he whispered breathlessly.

Roy attempted to pull away from him so that he could look him in the eyes, but Ed tightened his grip around his neck, refusing to let go.  He kissed the older man’s chest through his shirt and began to grind against his leg with slow, agonizing deliberateness.

Roy hissed out loud against the stimulation as he stiffened to an almost unbearably painful degree. 

“Edward…” he tried again.

“It’s okay,” Ed said. 

Ed removed his hands from Roy’s neck and ran them down the front of his chest.  Just as Roy was about to use the opportunity to back away, Ed grabbed onto the waist of his pants.  He dropped down to his knees and began to unbuckle Roy’s belt. 

Roy moaned at the promise of what was kneeling before him.  But… he couldn’t. He just couldn’t. 

Much to the disappointment of his aching body, Roy grabbed Ed’s wrists and pulled him back to his feet.

“Stop it,” he said shakily. 

“Why?”  Ed looked up at Roy with rejection in his eyes.  “Don’t you want to?”

At that moment, there was nothing else in the world Roy wanted more. He cupped Ed’s worried face in his hand. 

“Of course I want to,” he reassured him.  “But not until I believe that there isn’t even a small part of you that is doing this out of some sense of gratitude or obligation.”

Ed opened his mouth to protest…

… then closed it and nodded in understanding. 

Roy kissed him softly on the lips.  “Put your things away.  I’ll start dinner.”

He left the room and stood in the hallway,  waiting for his body to recuperate. 

Eventually, he made his way down the stairs and into the kitchen to decide on a meal.

*****

After dinner, Roy excused himself to go into his office and catch up on some things he would need to have in order for next week.  Ed settled on the couch with a manga, trying to ignore the sting of rejection.

He wanted Roy, he truly did.  The few times he had dared to touch himself since living there, always biting his lip to the point of drawing blood in order to silence himself, Roy’s face dominated his mind, urging him along to an earth-shattering climax. 

But the man was right.  There _was_ also gratitude and obligation in Ed’s actions.  And why wouldn’t there be?  Roy had risked everything to help him, _everything._   And for that, Ed would be eternally indebted to him. 

He just didn’t know how else to show it.

*****

“Can I come in?”

Roy glanced up from his paperwork.  He was wearing a pair of wire-framed glasses that made him look incredibly handsome. 

“Of course,” he said, before turning back to his work. 

Ed took a quick look around the boring and eclectic jumble of items in the office, making a mental note never to become a high school principal.

He crossed the room and stood behind Roy, staring over his shoulder.  He pressed his cheek against the top of Roy's head and wrapped his arms around him in a backwards embrace.

The pen in Roy’s hand paused its frantic scribbling. 

“Thank you,” Ed whispered.  “For everything.”

Roy covered Ed's hands with his own. “You’re welcome,” he responded.

Ed gave the man a brief squeeze and kissed the back of his head before letting him go.  As he opened the door to the office, Roy added one last thing:

“You know this doesn’t mean you can drive my car, right?”

*****

The rest of the weekend passed without incident.  The two men settled into a routine of sorts as they embarked on their new living arrangement and relationship together. 

On Monday, Roy reported back to work with renewed vigor.  He was in true Principal Mustang form; he had the little talk with Kain Fuery he’d been meaning to have about the man’s desperately lacking abilities and even offered to assist him in gaining an upper hand in the classroom.  Even Jean was being suspiciously pleasant; perhaps he had met someone new and would finally leave him alone.

The complications of his situation with Ed still nagged him, but he was convinced that they would be able to pull it off with no catastrophes... well, no _major_ ones, anyway.   

Tuesday night after dinner, the two would-be lovers curled up on the couch together and watched more scary movies.  Ed continued to proclaim his bravery, even through his screams of fright.

Neither of them had any way of knowing that come Wednesday, Ed’s first day back from suspension, both of their lives would drastically change forever.  


	6. The Storm

At 5:45 a.m., while Roy Mustang was straightening his tie in the reflection of a full-length mirror, Ed’s alarm began to sound loudly; the older man could hear it clearly in his own bedroom.  After a few seconds, he heard a bang… followed by another one… and then another.  Roy grinned to himself as he listened to Ed repeatedly assault his alarm clock in search of the snooze button.

He stepped out of the bedroom and poked his head through Ed's door. 

“Good morning,” he said into the darkness.

“Mmm,” was the muffled reply.

“Ten minutes,” Roy said.

“Mmm.”

Roy grinned again and closed the door.

He went downstairs and poured himself a cup of coffee.  For obvious reasons, he was a bit too nervous to eat; today was the first day that their living arrangement would be put to the test and his stomach was a bundle of nerves. 

Roy had tried to think of every daily scenario they would possibly encounter over the next three months and felt somewhat confident that he had a contingency plan in place for each one of them.  Would he be able to get away scot-free with driving Ed around for the next ninety days?  Of course not.  But what Roy was ultimately counting on, if any of his psychology education was to be believed, was that since no one at the school was remotely aware of his sexual proclivities except for Jean--and Sheska, apparently--he was far less likely to draw negative attention by chauffeuring a “troubled young man” like Ed than if he were to be seen driving around with a teenage girl. 

Everything was going to be alright, he reaffirmed to himself despite his nervousness.  He walked into the living room and sat down on the couch to watch the morning news. 

Dressed, but far from awake, Ed lurched down the stairs and plopped down next to him, leaning his head against the older man’s shoulder.

“Mmm,” he murmured.

Roy smirked.  “You sound like a zombie.  Speaking of which, just remember that _you’re_ the one who wanted to stay up and watch movies last night.” He leaned over and kissed the top of the sleepy teen’s head.  “Go eat,” he instructed.  “We’re leaving in twenty minutes.” 

Ed got up and staggered into the kitchen in search of ( _braaaaaaains_ ) food.  Roy watched him go with a look of adoration.

He smiled happily and turned his attention back to the television.

*****

Roy pulled into the teacher’s parking lot and parked in his designated space just before seven.  His was the first car there; most other employees wouldn’t begin to arrive until 7:30. 

He nudged Ed awake.  He did feel somewhat guilty that the boy would become hostage to his daily schedule, which sometimes spanned up to twelve hours, but reminded himself that it was all for the best.

“We’re here,” Roy said to the yawning teen. 

Ed squinted at his surroundings.  “’kay,” he muttered. 

“You’ll go straight to the library, right?”

“Yeah,” Ed replied, turning to look at Roy.  “I suppose I can’t kiss you now, huh?”

Roy shook his head with regret.  Even though the parking lot was empty, he didn’t want to take any unnecessary chances. 

“No,” he said, offering his upturned hand instead. 

Ed took it, intertwining their fingers, safely out of the window’s line of sight. 

“Then I’m afraid I’ll have to kiss you even more later.”

Roy grinned.  “That’s a punishment I’m willing to accept.  Come on, let’s go.”

He gave the boy’s hand one last squeeze before letting go and opening the car door.    
  
If he had known the amount of time that would pass before he was able to touch Ed again, he would have held on just a little bit longer.

*****

For Ed, the day went by with nary a glitch.  He was well aware of the questioning eyes of students and teachers alike upon him, upon his arm, wanting to take a closer look at the metal appendage that had caused so much fear and trembling in Mr. Fuery’s class.  No one called him Tin Man.  In fact, no one said anything to him at all, which was just fine by him.  Even the bullies that had started it all--and to whom he owed some debt for his relationship with Roy, he realized--showered him with cross glances but ultimately held their tongues.   

He had hoped to see Roy at some point during the day, even if it was just a glimpse.  But the man was a principal after all; he couldn’t very well wander the halls at his leisure. 

Oh well.  There was always tonight…

He smiled at the thought as he entered the boy’s locker room for his final class of the day:  Physical Education.

*****

_“Mr. Mustang, Izumi Curtis is holding on line two.”_

Sheska’s announcement caused Roy to forget everything else.  He stared at the blinking light on the phone, willing away the fear that tried to inch its way into his mind. 

_It’s something trivial,_ he thought to himself _.  A doctor’s appointment, the dentist, nothing too important._  

Still, the man could not help but notice his trembling hand as it reached out to answer the phone. 

As he listened to Izumi speak, the fear that he had managed until now to restrain grabbed hold of him. 

By the time the conversation was over, Roy Mustang was in a full-fledged state of panic.  

*****

“Say, Ed, could you stay behind for a minute?”

All of the other students looked at Ed with curious eyes on their way out to the field for track exercises. 

“Rick, get everyone started out there, would ya?”

Ed paused uncertainly as Jean Havoc watched the rest of the class filter outside.  After the last student exited with an icy parting glance for Ed, Jean closed the locker room door. He turned back to Ed with a smile that danced around his eyes, but didn’t quite touch them. 

“Have a seat, Ed.”

Ed sat down on the nearest locker room bench.  Jean remained standing, propping a leg up on the bench and smiling in that weird, creepy way. Without even realizing he was doing so, Ed folded his arms across his stomach, concealing his automail arm. 

“Did I do something?” he asked.

“I don’t know.  Did you?” Jean laughed and clapped a hand on Ed’s shoulder.  “I’m just kidding.  You gotta lighten up Ed, really.” 

The teacher leaned forward.  He looked at Ed with a concern that, like his smile, somehow missed his eyes completely.

“I just wanted to see how everything was going with you.  I heard about last week and I know the story got blown way the hell out of proportion.”

“I’m fine,” Ed replied hesitantly.

Jean looked at him for a moment. “That’s good,” he said.  “I know some of these kids can be real jerks.  I just wanted to let you know that you can come to me whenever you need someone to talk to.”

Ed’s eyes trailed down to the ground. He didn't know what to make of the man’s words. “Thanks,” he said uncertainly.

“No problem at all,” Jean said cheerfully.  “That is what we’re here for after all.  Me, your other teachers… Mr. Mustang…”

Ed’s jaw clenched visibly.  Jean smiled. 

“ _Especially_ Mr. Mustang,” he continued.  “But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

Ed looked up in horror at Jean.  His mind raced in a frenzy; he knew he couldn’t lie, the truth was written all over him. 

But how?  How did this man know?

Jean held up his hands in a gesture of surrender.  “Hey, I’m not your enemy.  I’m not here to judge.  I just…”

“Just what?”  Ed’s eyes were wide and worried, and only then did he notice the cruel amusement in Jean’s eyes.

Jean continued feigning concern.   “I just hate to think of what might happen to him if people get the wrong idea.  The accusation alone would be enough to ruin him.  Gay principal… teenage boy… you can understand how that would look to other parents… and the school board… and the police.  Whatever will you do when they ask you about it?  You couldn’t even lie to me. How are you going to defend him to everyone else?”

“I... I...”

“He's running out of time, Ed. So are you.” 

Ed jumped up and bolted out of the locker room.  Jean watched the locker door swing shut.

He thought about the look of dread and agony in Ed’s eyes and shoved it out of his mind.  This wasn’t about the kid.  This was about Roy.  _Everything_ was about Roy. 

Jean didn’t care what happened to Edward Elric.  He didn’t care at all.

He walked out to the field to join his class, waiting for a sense of satisfaction that was slow to come.

*****

_He said he was one of Ed’s teachers but wouldn’t say his name._

_He was asking all kinds of questions about Ed…_

_… and then he asked about_ you _._

His first instinct had been to pull Ed out of class and leave. So much for discretion. 

Roy replayed the conversation with Izumi in his head over and over, forcing himself to remain calm.  The mystery caller did not explicitly state that he knew Ed was living with him, but whoever the man was, he was certainly well aware of _something_. 

He would have to move Ed to a safer place right away.  _Tonight._   A hotel would suffice until he could arrange for something more permanent. 

Roy cursed himself for such a foolhardy idea in the first place, having Ed stay with him instead of somewhere else. Funny, the things that seem logical when the heart is involved.   

It occurred to him that Izumi might have been making all of it up, but something in the woman’s hardened voice convinced him that she was indeed telling the truth. 

During the conversation, Roy had briefly pondered her apparent change of heart, most likely brought on by his revelation of the true extent of Sig’s abuse.  But the marital woes of Izumi and Sig Curtis were the last thing on his mind.

He glanced at his watch.  Thirty minutes left in the school day.  A lifetime. 

And already too late. 

*****

Roy roamed among the lobby of students clamoring to leave, his eyes scanning the crowd for Ed. 

He checked the library.

He checked the boy’s locker room, grateful that Jean was nowhere to be seen.

He walked up and down each hallway, praying for a glimpse of that unmistakable red coat. 

Roy’s heart began to pound in his chest as he slowly made his way through the lobby again and back to his office.

He didn't see Jean watching him from a corner and smiling victoriously, having already recovered from his brief bout of morality.

*****

Sheska approached Roy as he entered his office.

“Mr. Mustang, Superintendent Bradley is--“

Roy shut the door in her face.  He didn’t care.  He just didn’t care about anything else right now.

He reached into his pocket, pulling out his cell phone with hands that shuddered.

After the third attempt, when his fumbling fingers finally obeyed him, he put the phone up to his ear.

The sound of ringing was endless.  He hung up when he heard Ed’s voice mail. 

Roy collapsed into his chair and buried his face in his hands.   He thought he might drown in fear. 

_“Um… Mr. Mustang?”_

Roy barely registered Sheska’s voice filtering into the room over the intercom. 

“ _Mr. Mustang, Superintendent Bradley is on hold, sir.”_

“Why would he leave without waiting for me?” Roy whispered to himself.

Determined to find out the answer, Roy grabbed his suit jacket off the back of the chair and stormed out of the office, leaving a gape-mouthed Sheska  to stare after him. 

*****

He didn’t have much time. 

Ed stared down at his phone.  His suspicions were correct; Roy had called.  He had switched it to silent so that he would not be tempted to answer it. He wouldn’t be able to do what he was about to do if he heard Roy’s voice. 

He shoved the phone into his pocket and proceeded upstairs. 

Winry Rockbell stood nervously at the foot of the stairs. “Hurry up, Ed!  I feel like a trespasser.”  

_So do I,_ Ed thought. 

He walked into his bedroom and stopped in his tracks, bombarded by thoughts of Roy.

Had it really only been a week?

A tremendous feeling of sadness overcame him.   Ed’s vision doubled and then trebled as tears filled his eyes and spilled over.  He couldn’t have stopped them if he tried. 

He walked over to the closet and began to throw his clothes into a bag.  He didn’t want to keep the nice things that Roy had bought for him, he didn't deserve them at all, but neither did he want to leave any trace of his existence in this room. 

After emptying the room of his remaining meager possessions, he stood by the door and took one last look around the room.  He closed his eyes and remembered every kiss, every touch that happened in there. 

Had it _really_ only been a week?

He didn’t want to leave.  In his heart, he wanted nothing more than to stay right where he was. But he didn’t want Roy to suffer because of him.  Not for him.

“Ed!” Winry called up.

“I’m coming!” he called down in a choked voice.

Ed sniffed and wiped his eyes.  After one final glance at the bed, where he had so desperately longed for other things besides sleep, he walked out of the room and closed the door behind him.

*****

Roy whipped onto his street and almost clipped a small beat-up looking car that was approaching the intersection.  In his state of mind, he paid no attention to how out of place it seemed in such a well-to-do neighborhood, nor did he notice the shocked look of recognition on the face of the young blond girl who was driving. 

There may have been someone else in the car as well, but Roy was too preoccupied to care about that, either.

*****

_“Edward!!!”_

Roy rushed through the house, throwing open the door of every room with a loud bang. 

_“Edward!!!”_

He saved the boy’s bedroom for last.  Despite all of his yelling, maybe he just hadn’t heard him...

Roy opened the door to Ed’s bedroom. The emptiness of the room hit him hard.  

He didn’t have to open the closet door to know what he would find. But he did anyway, hoping against hope.

And he felt his world, so recently reconstructed into something worth living for, crumble around him.

He sat down on the bed, gazing into the empty closet.

He wasn’t going to cry. He had hardly cried when he lost Maes and Elysia and goddamn it, he wasn’t going to cry now.

Ed was gone. He was really gone.  
  
A solitary traitor tear slipped out of the corner of Roy's eye.  He wiped it away and lowered his head.  
  
He had finally found happiness again… love again… and lost it.    
  
Again.


	7. Homecoming

"So how long will it take you to get there?"  
  
After spending a long, restless night at Winry’s house, Ed stood with his best friend inside of a bus terminal which bore a familiar canine logo, amid other travelers coming from and going to a variety of locations across the country.  He had a small bag filled with a change of clothing strapped to his back; he left the rest of his things at Winry’s.  He hadn't wanted to take them--he didn't even want to _look_ at them--because it hurt him to do so. 

He stared down at the ticket, calculating his travel time. 

"About ten hours with all the stops and stuff," he said.

Winry Rockbell stared at her friend with open concern.  "Ed, are you sure about this?"

The young man sighed sadly.  "This is something I needed to do anyway.  Might as well do it now."  
  
"What about school?" she countered.  
  
Ed winced slightly at the word; the mere mention of it brought Roy to mind.    
  
"I don't know," he said.  "And to tell you the truth, right now, I don't care.  I just can't go back there."  
  
"Ed--"  
  
"Thank you for the money," Ed interrupted her, not wanting to talk about the matter further.  "I'll pay you back as soon as I can."  
  
Winry shook her head.  "You know I don't care about that.  I just want you to be careful."  
  
"I'll be okay," he said, not too convincingly.  

He turned away from her and stared out of the window, watching for his bus.  Winry kept staring at him eagerly, opening and closing her mouth repeatedly as she struggled with the things she wanted to say.   
  
"You look like a fish," Ed said quietly.   
  
Winry beamed.  It wasn't much of the Ed she knew so well, but she would take it.  "Big words coming from a shrimp," she joked back.    
  
A small, sad smile breached Ed's lips.  Still looking out of the window, Ed held out his hand to his friend.    
  
They stood together, hand in hand, until the loud rumbling of an approaching bus alerted them that it was time.  Winry took no measures to hide the tears that fell from her large, blue eyes.  She grabbed Ed in a tight embrace.  
  
"Call me as soon as you get settled.  I mean it."   
  
"I will," he promised.  He pulled away and looked up into her eyes.   
  
They had met only a month ago, on a cool, dark night when Izumi's fists had been particularly brutal and Ed left the house to escape her wrath.  When he happened upon an old, broken down car and a distraught young woman, the mechanically uninclined teenager could only offer to walk her home, knowing that he could rely on his automail to protect her in a worst case scenario... and not for the first time wondering to himself why he had never bothered using that same automail to protect himself.  He reluctantly accepted her offer for a soda and four hours later left her house, having made one of the few, true friends he would ever have in his life.   
  
"I'll be okay, Winry," he said, more convincingly this time, not wanting to worry her.    
  
She smiled through her tears and bonked him on the head.  "You better."  
  
*****  
  
He waved goodbye to her from a window seat of the bus until it backed out of its spot and pulled away.  
  
As the bus began to make its long journey to various destinations, Ed rested his head against the back of his seat and closed his eyes.    
  
_I'll be okay._  
  
It was a lie of course.  Ed had no idea on earth what the next twenty-four hours would bring, let alone if he would be okay.  All he could do was hope... and think about Roy.  A wave of pain spread throughout his chest as he wondered what the man was doing at that exact moment.  
  
Ed banished him from his mind, as far as he would go.  Focusing instead on his destination, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his well-worn, well-used wallet.  Opening it, he shoved his fingers into a secret compartment, one he hadn't touched in almost two years.  He fished out a folded piece of paper and opened it, reading the address he had written down just after turning sixteen.    
  
10310 Central Terrace.    
  
It was an address he was never sure that he had wanted in the first place and, when he received it, one that he was never sure he would use.  And even though he had written it down, it was one that he had never forgotten.  
  
Ed turned to look at the passing buildings as the bus sped away from his current life and into an unknown future.  
  
*****  
  
Roy Mustang had spent his entire day in a haze. 

He coasted his way through meetings, including a particularly crucial conference call with other area high school principals, contributing next to nothing; he even let classroom offenders off with a slap on the wrist that day, a far cry from the Principal Mustang whose reputation usually inspired fear in delinquent students.

Last night at midnight, he had finally broken down and gone to see Izumi and Sig, hoping and praying that Ed had made the terrible decision to return there.  But he hadn’t.  He was so disappointed that he didn’t even care about the smug look on Sig’s face as if Ed’s leaving somehow vindicated him.

That evening, he returned home to the deafening silence of a house which, twice now, had become a haven of grief.  He prepared himself a dinner he would not eat and sat down to watch a television show he would not recall.  And just when he’d had enough and was ready to retire for another sleepless night, the phone rang.

Roy had considered letting it ring; he couldn’t stomach the thought of having a conversation with anyone.  But after a glance at the caller ID revealed the number he’d hoped would call, he clicked the ‘talk’ button with shaky fingers and a thundering heartbeat. 

“Hello?” Roy was amazed that he managed to sound so casual.

He was met with silence.  He was about to open his mouth to repeat himself when he heard the faint sound of breathing. 

Roy squeezed his eyes shut and concentrated on the sound; his entire body resonated with sadness and longing and at that moment he would have given anything to be able to reach through the line and touch him.

They sat that way for a full minute; each listening to the other breathe.  Then, when Roy could stand it no longer, he spoke up.

“Edward, just… just tell me that you’re okay,” he said gently.

He heard a long, shuddering sigh on the other end of the line and could tell the boy was trying valiantly not to break down. 

“I’m okay, Roy,” Ed said.  He cleared his voice and repeated, “I’m okay.”

“Edward…”

“I gotta go--” the boy’s voice cracked before the connection was broken.

Roy waited for a long time before hanging up the phone. 

As he made his way up the stairs, a strange sense of calm began to come over him. 

He was still sad, very much so.  And he would be for a long time to come. But for reasons he had yet to know, this was what Ed wanted.  Roy doubted anything he said could have brought him back. Ed _wanted_ to be somewhere else. 

Away from him.

Roy thought that if he could just hold on to that knowledge, then maybe he could begin to let him go.

*****

Ed shoved the cell phone back into his pocket and leaned his arm against the door, closing his eyes and rubbing them with one hand.

“You alright there, kid?”

He opened his eyes and met the suspicious glance of the cab driver through the rearview mirror.

“Yes, thank you.”

He turned away and peered out of the window at his surroundings.  The neighborhood was impressive.  Very impressive.  Large homes lined both sides of the street and the landscaping, as much as he could tell in the night sky, was flawless.

“Here you go, 10310 Central Terrace.”

The driver pulled alongside the curb and Ed paid him.  He got out and stared at the huge house in front of him.

As the cab left, Ed began a slow, timid walk up the driveway, past two luxury cars parked side by side.  In the distance, he heard a dog barking loudly. 

A voice of warning cried out in his head as he approached the door, and Ed had to stop himself from turning around and running away.  He actually might have, if he felt he had a home to return to. 

No.  This was all that was left to him now.  He was hardly expecting a warm welcome; he just wanted one night.  The _least_ they owed him was that.  And after that… well… he would worry about tomorrow when it came.

Ed stood at the door, hesitating, trying to think of every reason to avoid ringing the bell. 

Fear and doubt began to overcome him and he took a step backward.  And then another.  His heart began to pound in his chest and he felt dizzy and lightheaded.  He began to hyperventilate. This was a bad idea, showing up on the doorstep of people who had never wanted him to begin with.

Ed started to walk away when the door opened.

“Hi.”  The voice behind him was pleasant and inquisitive.    
  
And young. 

Ed turned around, his eyes widening in shock.  
  
_They... had... another...  
_

The sweet and innocent face of a smiling male teen was the last thing he saw before the darkness.

*****

“Mom!”

The young man ran over to the fallen stranger who had passed out on their front steps. 

_“Mom!!”_

“I’m coming, I’m coming.  What’s wr--”

The woman stepped out of the doorway and walked over to her son, staring with wide eyes at the body on the ground.

He was wearing a red coat that, in his fall, had been pushed back to reveal his right arm. Or at least, what _would_ have been his right arm, had he been born with one.

She gasped loudly.

“Mom?  What is it?”

“Go get your father,” she said.

“But what--”

“Alphonse,” she said gently but firmly.  “Go get your father.”

The young man took one last look at the mysterious stranger before running into the house.

The woman crouched down next to the boy on the ground, her expression a whirlwind of surprise and regret. 

“Oh, Edward,” she whispered.

Trisha Elric looked down into the face of her lost son as he laid there, for the moment, none the wiser.


	8. Begotten Son

Ed didn’t think it was possible for a bed to be more comfortable than the one he’d slept in at Roy’s house.  Thick, silky comfort engulfed him as he pulled a large down comforter around his neck and snuggled into the fluffy pillow surrounding his head. 

But wait.  This wasn’t right. 

Where was he?

He chased the fog from his mind, trying to retrace his steps.

He had left Roy… 

He had gotten on a bus…

He went to their house…

He was at the door…

And then he saw--

Ed sat up quickly, causing his head to spin.  The comforter fell from his chest and pooled around his waist.  He immediately noticed that he was not wearing his coat.  He wiggled his toes and realized that his shoes had been removed as well.

He looked around the large bedroom, which was twice the size of the one he had at Roy’s house, with all of its intricate--and slightly pretentious--adornments.  As his eyes made a second pass around the room, he finally noticed the woman sitting quietly in a corner, watching him.

She was beautiful, this woman.  She had long brown hair that cascaded behind her and eyes that were so incredibly caring… but that couldn’t be right. 

Realizing his arm, his _deformity_ , was showing, Ed felt embarrassingly conspicuous and immediately pulled the comforter over his right shoulder to conceal himself.  He stared down at the bed, blushing furiously. 

“It’s nothing you need to hide,” she said softly. 

She got up from her corner chair and approached him, sitting down at the foot of the bed.  She continued to stare at him with such a look of sweetness and concern that Ed found it impossible to reconcile such a peaceful presence with the woman who hadn't wanted him.

He fidgeted uncomfortably.  “If I could just have my coat and my shoes, I’ll be leaving,” he said.

Trisha Elric appraised her son.  “But you just got here.”

“It was a mistake,” Ed replied, still unable to look into her face. 

“Since when is it a mistake to look for the truth?” she asked.    
  
"I..." Ed was at a loss for words.  
  
"Please," Trisha gently pleaded.  "Stay for the night.  Tomorrow, when the others are gone, we can talk."  
  
Ed finally brought himself to meet the eyes of the woman who had abandoned him at birth.  
  
"I'll tell you everything, Edward," she said.  "Everything you want to know."

Ed turned away in thought, considering those words.

_Everything I want to know… the history of me._

How long had he wondered about those first few years of his life?  Years of which he remembered absolutely nothing.  His first real memories had been of the orphanage before Izumi and Sig took him in and even those were a blur. 

He had come this far, given up this much.  This was his right, even if the truth terrified him.

“Okay,” he said.

Trisha stood up and smoothed out the comforter where she had been sitting.  She smiled down at him with such an intense look of gratitude that Ed could hardly bear to look at her again.

“Wonderful,” she said.  “I’ll leave you to rest.  I’ve asked the others not to disturb you. If you would like to meet them tomorrow… after we’ve talked… well… that’s up to you.”

“Okay.”

“Goodnight, then.”  She smiled warmly and left the room, shutting the door behind her. 

Ed could only sit there, overcome with a sense of confusion.  He had tried to prepare himself for every possible scenario that meeting his birth family would bring, from anger to denial to disgust.

The last thing he had ever expected was _kindness_.

*****

_Just one more.  Then I’ll stop._

That had been three drinks ago. Or four.    
  
Definitely no more than five.    
  
Maybe.

Amber colored liquid--

_\--just like his eyes--_

\--sloshed over the edge of his glass and dribbled onto the floor.  Roy walked in a wavering zigzag to his bedroom and rested his head against the door. Before opening it, he turned to look at the door to the second bedroom.  He winced and closed his eyes; some pain just couldn’t be numbed by alcohol.

He stumbled into his bedroom.  After downing the rest of the drink, he dropped the glass and fell onto the bed, burying his face in the cool sheets. 

Maes.  Elysia.  Ed.  Memories of all three of them met him everywhere he turned in the house. 

For the first time, in the haze of his drunken mind, Roy began to wonder if he really wanted to continue living there.

*****

Ed peered into the darkness, trying to make out the time on the large grandfather clock using the sliver of moonlight that came in through the drawn curtains; he had a distinct feeling that there were no “lowly” digital clocks to be found in a house this grand. 

He sighed and sat up on the edge of the bed, his toes just barely grazing the top of the thick, lush carpet.  Sleep was an impossibility; his mind was racing entirely too much to slow down for rest. At first, he was too absorbed in his own thoughts to hear the creaking of the door.  It was the rustling of what sounded like a paper bag that finally got his attention.

“Hello?” he called out.

“Oh!  Did I wake you up?” 

It was _him._   Ed tried to shake the feeling of defensiveness that came over him.

“No,” he answered. 

The rustling sound came again.  “May I come in?”

_It’s your house_ , Ed thought bitterly.  “Sure,” he said. 

Ed sensed the door open and close.  The teen remained by the door.

“May I turn on the light?” 

Ed pulled his legs back into the bed and covered himself with the comforter.  The last thing he wanted was for _him_ to see his arm or leg. 

“Go ahead,” he said, sitting up in the bed and pulling the comforter snug around his shoulders.

The room came alive with light and for the first time, without fainting, Ed looked upon the face of his little brother. 

The first thing he noticed, with some dismay, was that the boy was taller than him.  He had short brown hair and wide, innocent eyes.  He was the spitting image of--

_(his mother)_

\--the woman, and a very handsome boy.  Just looking at him made Ed feel old, ugly, and broken. 

“They don’t like it when I eat too much fast food, but I really wanted some tonight.  That’s where I was going when you showed up.  Are you hungry?” he asked with a carefree smile, holding up a paper bag bearing a timeless golden arch logo.

Ed didn’t want to smile back; this boy was his _replacement_ , after all.  But damned if there wasn’t something ridiculously charming about him.  His voice was pleasant, almost childlike.  Melodic.  And Ed could see no maliciousness in his eyes. 

“No, thanks,” he said, trying his best to remain sullen.

The young man walked over to the bed and offered his right hand. 

“I’m Al.” 

Ed stared at the hand, knowing it would be rude not to shake, but conversely not wanting to show him any more of his automail than he had surely already seen.

Politeness got the better of him as he reluctantly pulled his arm from the protective cover of the comforter and shook his brother’s hand.  He could see the young boy’s eyes widen at the cool touch of it as he gawked down at it, fascinated. 

“Ed,” he said shortly and quickly concealed his arm again. 

“I know,” Al said.  He pulled a chair close to the bed, a little too close for Ed’s comfort, and sat down.  “I thought you might come sooner.”

_Sooner?  What the hell?_

“Did you know about me?” Ed asked incredulously. 

Al nodded.  “I was so happy when they told me about you.  I’ve always wanted a brother, and it turned out I had one all along.”

As if he couldn’t have been more confused, Ed stared into the smiling face of his younger brother with more questions than ever.

“But--“

Al interrupted with a low, conspirator’s whisper. “Don’t tell her that I told you that.  Don’t even tell her I came in here tonight.  She told me to leave you alone for now but I _really_ wanted to see you.”

The young boy blushed and smiled.  “Is that okay, Ed?”

Ed felt a strange, not entirely unpleasant sensation spread across his chest.  He so wanted to hate this… this… substitute firstborn son. Why couldn’t he just be a snot-nosed brat or a spoiled, pampered jerk? 

Why did he have to be so _likeable_?

He felt the corner of his traitorous lips turn upward slightly and cursed them.  “That’s fine… Al.”

Al smiled again and Ed felt something in his heart give. Damn it.

“Ed, can I ask you something?” 

“Yeah.”

The young man's curious eyes fell to Ed’s shoulder and downward, where his automail arm was still hiding behind the shield of the thick blanket.

“Did… _that_ … hurt… when they put it on?”

Ed flexed his metal fingers as he considered the question.

“Not much.” He was lying.  It had been pure agony.  “But it’s nothing now.”

Al blushed again.  “I think it’s cool,” he said shyly.

“You do?”

Al nodded. 

_My automail is cool??_

Ed was speechless. 

Al stood up and put the chair he had been sitting in back to its rightful position.  “I better go before she catches me in here.  You haven’t been around long enough yet for me to blame you for anything.”

He grinned and another half-smile escaped Ed's lips--he just couldn't help himself. 

Al walked over to the door, cradling the bag in his arms.  Before leaving, he turned around and looked at his older sibling.

“I hope I see you tomorrow… Brother.”

He turned out the light and silently crept out of the room, easing the door closed before Ed could respond. 

*****

“I told Alphonse not to bother him.  That son of yours, I swear.”

Trisha turned away from the master bedroom door and gazed at her husband, from whom Ed had gotten his blond hair and golden colored eyes.

“Why is he my son when he’s being stubborn?” Hohenheim asked innocently.

“I wonder," she said, giving him a knowing glance.  "I guess I can’t blame him, though.”

As she walked back to the bed, she stopped suddenly and put a hand to her head. 

Hohenheim sat up. “Trisha?” 

“I’m fine.” She gave a shaky sigh and smiled at her husband.  “Really,” she reassured him. 

She sat down on the edge of the bed, breathing heavily.  He watched her carefully for any sign of alarm.

“Trisha.” Hohenheim’s voice was low and solemn.  “Are you going to tell him?”

“I don’t know.” She crawled into bed slowly, as if something pained her a great deal, and she fell back against her pillow with another tired sigh. “I don’t know,” she repeated sadly.

*****

_I have a little brother. And he thinks I’m cool._

Ed smiled at the thought. 

Convinced that he would never be able to fall asleep, he did just that, with a cautious sense of hope and optimism.  
  



	9. A Mother's Regret

Roy had a monster hangover. It served him right; he was well aware of that.  What had he hoped to accomplish by drowning his sorrows in a bottle?  Besides the splitting headache he now had to endure.

TGIF, indeed.  If he managed to make it through the day, he felt as if he would need the entire weekend to recover.

He sat at his desk, doodling on a piece of paper.  He had work to do, but he was more captivated by his unintentional creation, a circle with a series of strategically placed triangles within them.  He had an overwhelming urge to draw a little salamander in it when he heard a knock at his office door.

Scrunching his mysterious geometric scribbles into a ball and tossing it in the garbage, Roy tried to look as if he were doing something of importance. “Come in,” he called out.

Jean Havoc sauntered through the door and Roy had to make a conscious effort not to grimace at the sight of him.

“Hey Boss, gotta sec?”

“Sure,” Roy said curtly.  He hated being called Boss.  And Jean knew that. 

Jean closed the door and sat down in a chair in front of Roy’s desk with an expression that could only be described as cheerful contempt. 

“Shouldn’t you be teaching?  That is what you do here, isn’t it?”  Roy stared blindly at a stack of papers in front of him, shuffling through them as if he actually gave a damn what they said.  The least eye contact he had with Jean, the better. 

“This is my free period,” Jean said.  “You used to know that.”

“I have no reason to remember,” Roy responded.  “What do you want?”

“Don’t worry,” Jean said smugly.  “I’m actually here on official teacher-to-principal business.  One of my students hasn’t shown up in a couple of days and so I thought I’d bring it to your attention.”

That didn’t concern Roy; some students missed days at a time as the year progressed and still managed to pass all of their classes with flying colors.

“Who?” he asked in a disinterested monotone.   

“Edward Elric.”

Roy raised his head and saw the amused gleam in Jean’s eyes.  He could feel the other man watching him for the slightest bit of recognition at the name. 

“Have you called his parents?” he asked.

“No.”

He looked questioningly at Jean.  “Then why are you here?  There is a procedure for this kind of thing.”

“I just thought maybe _you_ might know where he was.”

The conversation with Izumi hit Roy’s mind with startling clarity through the cloud of disorientation that was his hangover.

_He said he was one of Ed’s teachers but wouldn’t say his name._

_He was asking all kinds of questions about Ed…_

_… and then he asked about_ you _._

Roy stared at Jean.  His eyes had taken on a deadly gaze. “What did you do, Jean?”

The cocky man smirked but did not answer. 

“This is all your fault,” Roy said, barely holding back the urge to lunge across his desk at the man. 

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Jean said with all the innocence of the devil.

“You hate me so much that you would take it out on a seventeen-year-old kid,” Roy continued.  “Don’t you see how pathetic that is?” 

“Almost as pathetic as _fucking_ a seventeen-year-old kid, I imagine,” Jean spat back. 

“I wasn’t fucking him,” Roy responded truthfully.

“Then what is it?  You care about him?  You _love_ him?”

Roy didn’t need to reply for Jean to see the truth in his eyes.

“Unbelievable,” Jean said, with genuine hurt beneath his petulant expression.  “You dump me like it’s nothing, and then you want _that_?  He’s a goddamn cyborg for fuck’s sake.”

“Jean,” Roy began patiently.  “You and I…. It was too soon after Maes.  I told you that.  If you want to continue hating me because I didn’t want to hurt you, then go right ahead.” 

The physical education teacher sulked and said nothing.

“But you better pray that nothing happens to him,” Roy added.

“What are you talking about?”

“He ran away, you childish asshole.  He ran away because of you.” 

Roy noted the brief look of shock that passed on the man’s face, but he was too upset to care.

“Roy--”

“Get out of my office,” Roy said tiredly.  He ran his hands through his hair and closed his eyes, his head aching to the point of nausea. 

A minute passed before he heard his office door open and close softly.  Roy let out a huge sigh of relief. 

At that moment, he didn’t care if he ever laid eyes on Jean Havoc again. 

*****

“I married Hohenheim when I was still a teenager, not too much older than you are now.”

They were sitting on opposite ends of a couch in the living room of the large house; at least Ed assumed it was the living room.  During a tour of the place, she had also shown him a family room and a sun room and the confused teen really couldn’t tell the difference between any of them.

Ed had awakened that morning to the quiet sounds of the three of them as they went about their morning routine in a hushed manner--for his benefit, he assumed.  It was hard not to feel like an intruder as he listened to them start their day in the same way they must have done for almost eighteen years now, as if he had never existed.

Despite Trisha’s initial kindness--which Ed believed was sincere--it was hard for him not to feel a pang of anger towards his birth parents, especially as he had laid in bed and listened to them dote on their perfect, four-limbed son.  As for Al, Ed harbored no true ill will towards him at all.  Despite the boy’s incessant likeability, his birth parents were just as responsible for the fate of their second-born as they were for the first… only in the end, Al definitely received the better hand. 

“We were the talk of the town--a kind of local royalty, I guess you could say.  It was nice being what so many people wanted to be.  And it was easy to get caught up in everyone else’s expectations of us. They all thought we were so perfect.” Trisha hung her head as she wrung her hands in her lap. “So we thought we had to be. Well, that, and we _wanted_ to be.”

“And I didn’t fit into your plans for perfection.”  Ed said, tracing the couch’s pattern with a slender, metal digit. 

Trisha squeezed her eyes closed and took a deep, shuddering breath before continuing. “I wish… I wish I could tell you that we did it because we were poor and thought you would have a better life with someone else.  But the truth was… we _wanted_ the perfect family… the perfect child.”

A tear fell onto her folded hands. Ed was not moved.

“So you got rid of me.”  He could sense her recoil at his words, and he was surprised that he felt somewhat guilty for saying it.  But not enough to take it back.

“We knew about your condition when I was three months along.  I didn’t want to have an abortion… I _couldn’t_ … so we decided to give you up instead… and the minute we did it… I … But it was too late... and there hasn’t been a day that has gone by since that I didn’t...”

“I barely remember the orphanage,” he cut in, not wanting to hear or feel her remorse.  “I was there until I was three. Not really much of a demand for babies missing an arm and a leg, I guess.”

Trisha slapped a hand over her mouth and choked back sob. After a moment, she continued, “When we heard you got placed with a foster family I thought… maybe I could try and live with that and let you go… as long as you were safe and cared for.”

“Safe and cared for,” he repeated, shaking his head.

Trisha looked up at him through her tears.  “Was it bad for you?”

Ed snorted bitter laughter.  Where was he even supposed to start?  Random memories began to flash through his mind: the endless taunting and name-calling, one broken arm, three chipped teeth, two concussions, a dislocated jaw, the bruises, the black eyes, the… _internal_ damage… 

Was it bad for him?

“Yeah, it was,” he finally said.  “Pretty bad.” 

She sighed again and lowered her head. “I’m sorry, Edward. I’m so sorry.”

She waited for him to respond.  When he didn’t, she went on. 

“We knew we should have waited for you to contact us, but we went ahead and hired a private investigator to find you. I was really surprised that you had kept your name; it made finding you that much easier.  I just couldn’t stand not knowing where you were. I had no idea you were so close. I wanted to see you, I really did, but I didn’t want to interfere with your life either. I thought it was for the best. We told Alphonse about you when a couple of years ago.”

“That's when I requested your address.”

Trisha nodded.  “When the investigator told us that, we thought that it would just be a matter of time before you came. So we waited.” 

She raised a hand to her temple and frowned slightly.  Ed thought nothing of it; crying could have that effect on anyone.

“Edward, I don’t expect you to ever forgive me, but… if you’d let me, I’d like to spend the rest of my life making it up to you… and getting to know you… if you’d like.” 

“Why now?” Ed asked.  “Why, when for all of those years it was such a fucking embarrassment to you to have a deformed child?  What’s so different now?”  He vaguely realized this was the first time he had cursed in front of her, but he didn’t care. 

Trisha was quiet for a very long time before she finally answered. “Because life is so  _fleeting._ All of the things that seemed so important--money, status, appearances--they’re all meaningless. I _know_ that now.”

Ed sighed and lowered his head into his hands.  Was it really just as simple as saying okay and letting these people into his heart? 

Yes. Yes, it was. Because he already had… at least in the case of _one_ of them. 

“I want to know my brother,” he said carefully.  “And I want him to know me.” He raised his head and looked her squarely in the eyes.  “That’ll have to be enough for now.”

“It is,” Trisha replied.  “Alphonse will be so happy.”

She stood up and walked over to a window that looked out into the huge backyard, complete with heated swimming pool.  Ed could see the hitching of her shoulders and knew she was trying not to cry.  He was about to excuse himself from the room when she cleared her throat and spoke up.

“I have to start dinner now,” she said shakily, wiping her eyes and turning around.  “Can you cook?”

Ed felt a twinge of pain as he recalled the last person who had asked him that. 

“Not very well, or so I’m told,” he replied, thinking of Roy.  Missing him. 

Tricia sniffled and smiled faintly.  “Well, let’s see if we can remedy that.”

“Alright,” he said.

He stood up and followed his mother into the kitchen, taking the first step in the slow and difficult crawl to forgiveness.

*****

“Anybody home?” Hohenheim called out.

“Mom!” Al added.

Trisha emerged from the kitchen with Ed, who stood behind her. 

For the first time in almost eighteen years, the Elric family stood together in the same room, under one roof. 

“Ed!” Al beamed.  “You stayed!”

He ran over to Ed, smiling down at him with indescribable joy. 

_MUST he be so tall??_ Ed wondered.

He  was once again won over by the boy’s naïve charm and returned his younger _, taller_ brother’s smile. 

“Yes, I stayed.” He glanced past Al’s shoulder and looked at his father for the first time.

It was as if he was staring at himself as he would look in thirty years.  Hohenheim’s hair was blond like Ed’s and pulled back into a long ponytail.  He had a neatly trimmed beard--

_Never getting one of those._

\--and he recognized his own eyes behind the man’s glasses.    

“Hello, Edward,” Hohenheim said.  He was quiet, almost aloof.

“Hi.”

Ed could tell the man was debating over whether or not to say more.  It was an awkward moment for all of them except for Al, who unintentionally broke the ice for everyone by loudly proclaiming:

“Man, I’m _starving!_   Come on, Ed!”

He grabbed his brother’s arm and absconded with him to his bedroom to change out of his school uniform, chatting endlessly about his day.  Ed could only follow helplessly, allowing himself to be taken captive by the charming teenager.

Watching them leave, Hohenheim walked over to his wife and put an arm around her waist.

“So he’s staying?” he asked.

“For the weekend.  After that, we’ll see.”

“Did you tell him?”

She shook her head.  “I want him to forgive us because he wants to."  
  
Trisha stared despondently in the direction of Al's room.

“Not because I’m dying.”

She closed her eyes and rested her head against her husband’s shoulder.  After a while, they walked into the kitchen together.  
  
*****

She had less than two weeks left to live.


	10. Letting Go

Despite Ed’s interference, dinner was good.

Although he had managed to refrain from eating with his normal hyperactive fervor, watching Al inhale his food caused Ed to wonder if that particular trait was genetic. 

Conversation had been clipped and strained throughout the meal.  Hohenheim posed a few safe, generic questions in Ed’s direction, namely about school and general interests.  Ed provided them equally safe and generic answers, not wanting to reveal the true extent of his social failures. Luckily for all of them, Al seemed more than content to carry the brunt of the conversation, regaling everyone with such pressing academic dilemmas as trying to talk to his latest crush (some “smokin’ hot” girl named Martel, he told them with a happy glow in his wide eyes) and wondering whether or not he stood a chance with her. 

During dessert, the family continued listening to Al drone on--this Martel was apparently perfect in every way.  Ed smiled to himself as he picked at his pie; despite his discomfort at being in such close quarters with Trisha and Hohenheim, he found himself falling more and more for his little brother’s incessant whimsy.

“Do you have a girlfriend, Ed?”

Ed’s fork paused in mid-air as Al uttered his innocent query. 

It wasn’t that he expected the subject never to be broached; he did--just not so quickly.  Trisha and Hohenheim exchanged glances; they had surely been wondering the same thing but did not dare to ask for fear of getting too personal too soon.

“No, Al,” Ed started, setting down his fork.  “I don’t have a _girlfriend_.”

The subtle emphasis on the word flew over his brother’s head but he saw that Trisha and Hohenheim knew exactly what he meant.  There was no judgment or disapproval as far as he could tell, but he also didn’t think they would ever jump at joy over the fact that their firstborn was not only deformed, but attracted to a man as well.

“Is there someone you like?”  Al’s curiosity refused to let the subject go.

“Al...” Trisha started.

“Yeah.  There is someone I like.  A lot.”   Ed didn’t know if his mother was trying to spare him the embarrassment or herself.

His little brother was all ears.  “Ooh, what’s she like?”

“Ed, you don’t have to answer that.” Trisha said.

Ed shrugged.  He had nothing to hide.  Not from them.  “It’s fine.” Turning his attention back to the adorably nosy teen, Ed said, “Actually it’s not a she… it’s a he.”

Al looked at him in amazement.  “You’re _gay?”_

Ed considered the question.  He'd never had feelings toward anyone before Roy, male _or_ female.  Nor could he imagine feeling that way toward anyone else except Roy. 

_Was_ he gay? 

“I don’t know, Al,” he answered.  He picked up his fork and resumed eating, leaving the three of them to absorb his confession.

After a moment of consideration, Al leaned on the table and gaped at Ed.

“This… is so… _perfect!!”_

His joyful proclamation gave everyone pause.

“Martel _loves_ yaoi!  Personally, I don’t get it, but most of the girls at my school do.  What’s the one they won’t shut up about… Gravel… Gravity… oh!  Gravitation.” His voice shifted into a startling, and somewhat dead-on, falsetto.  “Omi _gawd!_   Shuichi and Yuki are so _ka-wai-iii!!!”_

Ed’s mouth fell open in shock.  Trisha grinned into her hand.  Even Hohenheim looked amused.

“That’s it,” Al continued, grabbing himself a second helping of dessert.  “You’re moving here and coming to my school.  I’m not taking no for an answer.” 

Ed supposed that there were worse things than being a chick magnet for his little brother.  He watched the young teen dig into his pie with unbridled gusto and tried to come to terms with the strange sense of familial happiness that overtook him.

*****

Later that night, he watched Al play video games, having already retired from it after his real hand started cramping.  He hated his automail with a passion, no matter how cool Al thought it was, but it _did_ come in handy for feats of endurance. 

The screen turned red, signaling death for Al’s character.

“Aw, crap!  Did you see that, Ed?” Al asked over his shoulder.

“Yeah, I did.  That sucks.”

Al turned the system off.  “Do you want to watch a movie?”

Ed hoped the teen didn’t like scary movies; he didn’t want to ruin his “cool” status by screaming every ten seconds. 

“Sure,” he said, pulling his cell phone out of his pocket.  “I just need to make a phone call first, okay?”

“No problem.”  Al got up and began rifling through his movie collection. 

Ed looked down at his phone and grinned.  Winry had called him three times already, which didn’t surprise him in the least. 

His grin quickly faded as he saw that she was the only one who had called him.

He knew he was being silly; as much as he craved the sound of Roy’s voice, he also _didn’t_ want to hear it.  He didn’t want to bring Roy trouble.  It was best this way, it really was... but he missed him so much that it hurt.

Against his better judgment, Ed’s finger hovered over the speed dial button for Roy’s house--

“Ed?”

He snapped out of it and looked at Al who had, in fact, chosen a gruesomely bloody movie.  Great. 

“Yeah?”

Al’s face turned crimson and he lowered his voice to a shy near-whisper.  “Do you really like guys?”

Ed sighed.  Winry could wait.  As for Roy…

He put his phone away. It really _was_ best this way.

“Just one guy, Al.  Only one,” he answered.  “Is that really alright with you?”

Al nodded.  “Yeah.  And I don’t just mean that because of Martel, you know.”

“I know.” Ed glanced at the disc in Al's hand.  “What did you choose?”

The sixteen-year-old’s face lit up as he showed Ed the movie.  “This is really good. I've watched it about ten times!” Seeing Ed’s expression, Al gave his older brother a questioning look. “You’re not _scared,_ are you?”

*****

After the third drink, Roy skipped the glass and went straight for the bottle.

He sat at the desk in his home office, with the bottle in one hand and a phone in the other. The hand holding the phone began to tremble.  He wanted to call him, wanted to hear his voice. Instead, he dropped the phone and ran a hand over the stubble that covered his jaws.  Roy hadn’t shaved that morning; the severity of his hangover wouldn’t allow it. 

He leaned back into the soft comfort of his chair, considering his present situation. 

He was drunk.  Given the vast amount of alcohol he’d imbibed the past hour, that was a given.

And then a most astonishing development:  He had a raging erection. 

He had managed to ignore it for the past half hour.  He wasn’t a kid after all; he didn’t need to go around touching himself whenever the mood hit him.  The last time he had done that was the day when Ed…

He closed his eyes and tried to think of something, _anything_ , besides how the young man had felt while grinding against him.

“Fuck,” he slurred, putting the bottle down and hastily unzipping his jeans.  He took himself into his hand and began to pump vigorously.  He wasn’t even that into it, but he was grateful for something to take his mind off his drunken sadness.

After a few minutes, he felt no closer to achieving his objective.  Roy frowned and stroked even faster, bucking his hips for further stimulation.  His mouth fell open and his breath came out in ragged gasps as he concentrated on completion.

He tried to call to mind something to speed him along, but what popped into his head made him go soft almost immediately.

It was that goddamned “Kiss the Cook” apron.  Roy originally bought it as a joke, but Maes had loved it and wore it every single time he made dinner.  In his mind’s eye, Roy could see his dead partner as clear as day, standing in the kitchen doorway and brandishing a spatula at him, wearing that stupid, frilly apron and smirking in that way that melted Roy’s heart.

A choked sob escaped him as he shamefully zipped himself back up and stumbled out of the room.  He registered the soft thump of the bottle as it fell over on the floor, but there was hardly any liquid left in it to spill out.  He made his way downstairs, holding onto the railing for support, and staggered over to the table that displayed the pictures of his lost family.  Through blurred vision, he looked at the smiling faces of ghosts, people lost to him in one form or another.

For the first time, Roy found himself questioning the reason behind his feelings for Ed.

Why _Ed_ , when he’d had no problem discarding Jean?

Was it really something true? Or had he just been using the boy as a substitute for what he had lost?

A combination of man and child in one body to make up for the both of them. 

_That can’t be_ , he thought, his eyes widening in horror. 

He picked up the photo of Maes and Elysia that he had shown Ed. Smiling ghosts. His family.

Maes’ eternal smirk, the way he had smelled, the way he had tasted, the way he had loved.

Elysia, staring down into in her crib, her first steps, her first words.

She had called him Daddy Roy. That was her special name, just for him.

He dropped to his knees, clapping his hands over his ears at the painfully sweet memory of Elysia’s voice.  He pressed tightly against his head, trying to contain it, but it was already too late.

Roy Mustang, a man who could count on one hand the number of times in his life that he had ever shed a tear, began to cry.  Loud sobs fell from him, causing his entire body to shake.  He felt a distinct pull on the right side of his chest and collapsed onto his side in agony, and still, he cried even more, so much that he began to feel as if he might die from it. 

And in that one moment,  he didn’t care at all if he did. 

*****

_“Roy!!!”_

Giving up the doorbell, Jean began banging on the door.  He had been standing there almost two full minutes after hearing Roy’s cries, trying to get him to respond. 

He panicked after he heard the crash.

Jean pounded on the door again.  He didn’t care if the man was pissed at him, as long as he answered the door. 

“Roy, open this goddamn door or I’m gonna bust it open!” 

Nothing.

_Shit,_ Jean thought, knowing full well that, as strong as he was, he wouldn’t be able to fulfill his promise.  No part of his body was an equal match against a steel door.  He glanced at the curtained window and was about to find something to break it, hoping that the security system sticker was _still_ just a decoy as it had been in the past, when he gasped in remembrance. 

He bolted off the doorstep and around the house.  At the back door, he lifted up the mat and grabbed the spare house keys, calling to mind the numerous times he’d given Roy flak for hiding it in such an obvious place. 

He unlocked the door with unsteady hands and ran inside the house.  His heart pounded painfully in his throat as he entered the living room.

“Roy?”

Jean stopped in his tracks.

“Oh, Jesus.”

The man was lying on his side, shivering and whimpering.  The table and the photos that he had always been so enamored with lay in an explosion of wood and glass around his head, along with a puddle of putrid-looking vomit.

Jean made his way through the ruin and kneeled down.  He pulled Roy into his arms, horrified by the state of his former lover.

Roy looked up at him with dull, defeated eyes.  His face was wet with tears and sick.  Though it would have normally sickened him to do so, Jean reached down and wiped Roy’s face with his bare hand without a second thought. 

“Damn it, Roy.”  He sat down on the floor, cradling him in his arms.  A fresh round of sobs escaped the broken man. “It’s okay,” he whispered gently, smoothing the man's black hair away from his sweaty forehead.  “It’s okay… just let it go… it's long overdue.”

Jean continued holding him tightly, blinking back his own tears.

*****

_You’re moving here and coming to my school.  I’m not taking no for an answer._

Ed stared down at his younger brother, who was sprawled out horizontally across his bed and snoring loudly.  He grabbed Al’s legs and swung him around, then tucked a comforter around him and resisted the urge to pat him on the head. 

Twenty-four hours.  It only took twenty-four hours for him to fall completely in love with the kid.  And now he wasn't sure if he could ever let him go.

Trisha had already asked if he would use the weekend to consider a more permanent arrangement between them and he had promised to think about it. But staring down at the angelic face of his baby brother, Ed knew in his heart that he had already made up his mind. 

He would call Winry over the weekend and send for his clothes. He would have to ask Izumi and Sig to withdraw him from school.

School… Roy…

Ed sighed with a heavy heart as he left Al’s room and walked back to his own. He loosened his hair, letting it fall across his shoulders and down his back.  He sat down on the edge of his bed and remained that way for the next hour, alone in the dark.  

It really was best this way.

Wasn’t it?

*****

Roy had finally, thankfully, fallen asleep.  
  
Jean stretched, feeling a distinct twinge in his back from carrying him up the stairs.    
  
After getting the half-conscious man into bed, Jean stripped him down to his boxers.  Funny, he had wanted nothing more the past few months than Roy Mustang naked in bed, and now when that dream was right in front of his eyes, it was the last thing on his mind.  
  
He stared at Roy, who dozed soundly on his side.  Jean was terrified to let him sleep any other way.  He reached down and swept a lock away from his forehead, letting his fingers run through the rest of the man's fine, black hair.  
  
He had always loved Roy's hair.    
  
He sat down on the bed and watched him carefully.  He was fairly positive that he'd seen the last of the vomiting and dry heaving, but wanted to take no chances.  After waiting for a few minutes, he got up and quietly retrieved a pillow and blanket from the closet. There was plenty of room on the bed, but he would be a gentleman and use the living room sofa.   
  
Pausing by the door, Jean cast a last glance over his shoulder at the sleeping man.  
  
After a while, he shook his head and exited the room.


	11. Clean Slate

Roy sat up on the edge of his bed, trying to still the endless churning of his stomach.  Even though there was nothing left to vomit, dry heaving was just as unpleasant and he wanted to avoid it at all costs.  He pried his eyes open and glared at the window, cursing the sun and its offensive brightness. 

After adjusting to being upright, Roy slowly stood up, wavering slightly.  He grabbed onto the bedpost, waiting for his head to stop spinning, and clutched the right side of his chest; he had pulled something for sure.  When he felt he could go on, he stumbled into the bathroom where he washed his face and rinsed out his mouth, which tasted rather godawful.  

As he headed down the stairs, the first thing that struck him was the absolutely sickening smell of food. Any other morning, he would have welcomed a home-cooked morning meal, but today his stomach rolled in objection to the stench of it. 

He soldiered on through the kitchen door, where he saw Jean emptying the last remains of alcohol down the kitchen sink.  Roy noticed a cigarette dangling from his teeth; the man was a notorious chain smoker outside of school, which Roy could never begin to understand, given his remarkable physical condition.  Jean gave Roy a cursory glance before turning his attention back to the sink.

Roy sat down at the table and rubbed his face.  He attempted to stretch but found that he couldn’t do it properly because of the pain in his chest.  Giving up, he rested his elbows on the table and stared at Jean’s back. 

“That’s perfectly good liquor,” he croaked.

“I know.  I’m the one who bought most of it,” Jean replied without turning around. 

“How did I get upstairs last night?”

Jean grunted.  “How do you think?  I carried your heavy ass myself.”

_Heavy?_ Roy was mildly offended.  “It’s not like it was the first time you’ve ever done it.”

“Yeah, but that was when I was getting laid, not playing wet-nurse to a drunk man.”  Jean tossed the last empty bottle into the garbage and retrieved a plate that was warming in the oven.  He slid it, along with utensils, across the table to Roy, who swallowed hard against the uprising of his stomach. 

“Eat,” he commanded.

“I can’t,” Roy insisted. 

Jean moved over to the refrigerator and poured a glass of juice.  “You can and you will,” he said, setting it down in front of him.  “It doesn’t even have ashes in it.”

Despite his aching head, Roy couldn’t help but grin at the memory of the infamous scrambled egg and cigarette ash incident.  One morning, Jean had prepared a post coital breakfast of bacon and eggs and only _after_ Roy had eaten heartily did the man admit to spilling a fair amount of cigarette ash into the eggs. 

It was not nearly as humorous at the time.

Jean grabbed a bottle of painkillers from the counter and shook out two, which he handed to Roy.  He then ground out his cigarette in an ashtray that Roy didn’t realize he even still owned and lit another one. 

“Why did you come here last night?”  Roy popped the pills into his mouth and took a small sip of juice, grimacing at the taste and praying everything would stay down.

“I was in the neighborhood.”  Jean sat down across from Roy and dragged deeply on his cigarette.

“Is that so?”  Roy gave him a suspicious glance as he bit the edge off a piece of toast and chewed slowly.  He swallowed it in apprehension and waited. So far so good. 

“Well, that… and I was thinking,” Jean started, fidgeting with the placemat in front of him.  “Maybe I could help you find him.”

Roy stopped eating and looked thoughtfully at Jean, who immediately went on the defensive.

“Let’s get one thing straight,” he said.  “This is _not_ for you.  I still hate you, so don’t look at me like you just sprouted a vagina, okay?”

Roy smirked.  “Tactful as always.” He took a tentative sip of juice before continuing.  “I appreciate the offer, but I don’t think he wants to be found.”

Jean frowned.  “Why do you say that?”

Roy sighed sadly and stared down at his plate.  “Because that’s just the way it seems.”

The two men sat in silence while Roy continued eating.

After finishing his second of countless cigarettes for the day, Jean got up from the table.  “I’m going to check on the laundry,” he announced.

“Jean?”

Stopping in the doorway, Jean turned to look at Roy.  “What?”

“Thank you.”

Jean stared into the grateful face of his ex-lover.

“Shut the hell up and eat,” he said softly, walking out of the kitchen.

*****

For the second time in less than a month, Ed was taken on a shopping spree at someone else’s expense, although this time, he didn’t feel nearly as guilty about it.

He practically had to sprint to keep up with Al who was blissfully unaware of the discrepancy in their respective heights with regards to walking.  It didn’t help matters at all that he was saddled with three large bags full of clothing. 

“Al, wait up!” Ed called out as the young teen bounded into Hot Topic.

He had called Winry and told her everything; she was sad to see him move away, but happy for him that he had found his family.  She promised to pack his things and ship them to him first thing Monday morning.  In the meantime, he had been willing to settle for re-wearing the clothes he’d brought with him, but Trisha and Hohenheim had emphatically insisted on buying him a new wardrobe. 

Like the Elric house, the family vehicles were equally pretentious and Ed had been somewhat embarrassed to be seen riding in one of the large luxury cars.  But his embarrassment quickly gave way to fearing for his life as Al drove, seemingly unaware of even the most basic of road laws.  As he stepped out of the car at the mall, thankful to be alive, he made a solemn vow to get his own drivers license as soon as possible. 

Now, as the two boys browsed through the eclectic selections of gothic merchandise, a voice called out across the store. 

“Hey, Al!”

Al and Ed both looked up.  Al smiled in recognition.  “Hey Russ!  What’s going on?”

Two blond teenagers approached the brothers.  The older of the two, Russ, looked down at Ed with interest.

“Not much,” Russ replied. “Just looking for a gift for our cousin’s birthday.”

“Cool,” Al said.  Noticing the way that Russ’ attention was drawn to Ed, he remembered his manners.  “This is my brother, Ed.”

“ _The_ Ed?”  Russ asked.

_The Ed??_

Al beamed proudly.  “Yep.  Ed, this is Russ Tringham and his brother, Fletch.”

The younger boy scowled.  “Fletch _er_.”

“Sorry.  Fletch _er_.”

“How’s it going?”  Russ asked.

“Um… alright,” Ed answered quietly.

Ed caught the look of shock that passed across the younger boy’s face and blushed slightly, knowing he had just seen--

“Whoa!  Is that your _arm_?”

“Uh…” Ed paused, trying to think of a way to explain it.

“That’s his automail,” Al piped in.  “Check it out.”

To Ed’s horror, Al grabbed his arm and raised his sleeve so that the two boys could inspect it. 

“Al!” he said, trying to pull away from him.

“That is _so cool!”_

“Huh?” Ed stopped resisting, caught completely off guard by Fletcher’s assessment. 

“I know!” Al agreed.  “His leg is the same way!”

“Al…” Ed groaned.

“Can I touch it?” Fletcher asked.

“Uh… okay?”  Ed said uncertainly.

The young boy reached out and touched Ed’s automail arm with a finger.  He then wrapped his entire hand around the metal forearm and giggled.  “That is so neat!”

“Fletcher.  I’m pretty sure Ed doesn’t want you feeling him up.”  Russ never took his eyes away from Ed, even as he admonished his brother.  “Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay,” Ed said shyly, pulling his sleeve down as Fletcher reluctantly removed his hand. “I’m just not used to people thinking it’s… _neat_.”

“Then you don’t know the right people.”

The comment left Ed speechless.  He tore himself away from the teen’s intent gaze and looked at Al. 

“We better get going,” he said in a shaky voice. 

“Okay,” Al said. 

“It was nice meeting both of you,” Ed said to the duo.

“You too!” Fletcher proclaimed happily.

“How long are you going to be in town?” Russ asked.

“He’s moving here!” Al said.  “Mom’s going to enroll him in school next week.”

“Really?  What year are you?” Fletcher asked.

“I’m a senior.”

Fletcher looked surprised.  “So’s Russ!”

“Oh?”  Ed said.

“Looks like you’re going to get to know the right people after all.”  Russ smiled at Ed before turning around.  “Come on, Fletcher.”

“See you guys later!” Fletcher called over his shoulder as they walked away.

Al and Ed left the store and stood in the hallway.  Al had a deep, contemplative look on his face.

“What is it, Al?” Ed asked.

“You know, I never noticed before,” the teen began.  “But I think that Russ is a little bit…”

Ed breathed an inward sigh of relief.  _Thank_ _God, I’m not the only one who noticed he was--_

“… bossy.”

_\--gay. Wait. What??_

He stared at his younger brother in disbelief.  “Bossy?”

“Yeah,” Al said.  “Didn’t you notice the way he bossed Fletcher around? I mean, I know he’s older and all, but still…”

Ed looked into the face of his ridiculously innocent brother, utterly nonplussed. 

“I guess you’re right, Al,” he said, grinning in resignation.  “He did seem just a tad bit… bossy.”

“I’m hungry,” Al said, switching the subject.

Ed smiled, amazed again at how easy it was to love him.  “I figured as much.”  He patted the teen on the shoulder.  “Come on, let’s go eat.  Or am I being too bossy?”

Al laughed happily.  “Ed!”

The brothers wandered off in search of food before taking in a movie (non-horror) and spending an obscene amount of money in the video game arcade.  Ed spent an hour on skee-ball alone, winning enough tickets to exchange for a cheap plastic snake and Al poured the equivalent of a small fortune into the crane machine, only to come away empty handed.  They teamed together to play a zombie-shooter game, making it through the entire game and drawing a throng of fascinated spectators who cheered them on until the very end.

It was one of the happiest days of Ed’s life.

*****

“Good morning, Mr. Mustang.”

Roy walked into the office, feeling a lifetime better than he did over the past forty-eight hours.  He smiled warmly at his secretary as he greeted her, politely ignoring the way it caused her to swoon visibly.

“Good morning, Sheska.  What’s on the agenda for today?”

“8 a.m. conference call with Superintendent Bradley and the board,” she started, staring down at her calendar.  “The president of the PTA will be in at ten-thirty.  The head of the teacher’s union just called; she needs to reschedule her meeting with you.  And the kindergarten chorus is having their concert today at two.”

“Not bad for a Monday,” he said.  He began walking back to his office door when Sheska called out after him.

“Oh, I almost forgot one thing.”

Roy stopped and turned around.

*****

Ed was wide awake.  He had, in fact, yet to fall asleep. 

He sat up in bed with his arms wrapped around his knees, his blond hair spilling around him.  He rested his cheek against the cool smooth metal of his right arm and glanced at the soothing glow of the digital clock in his bedroom, something he purchased on his shopping trip with Al. 

Roy should be arriving at work right about now. 

Would he call when he found out? Or would he never want to speak to him again?

Not that he spoke to him now.

Ed knew he should have told him personally, if not face to face, then voice to voice.  Any reason, any excuse to hear his voice. 

But how? How could he tell the man he loved that he was _never_ coming back?

*****

After checking his mailbox in the school office and flirting with Sheska  (the woman was _so_ easy to tease), Jean stopped by Roy’s office. 

“Roy?” he said, knocking lightly before opening-- a first.  “Roy, are you in here?”

He was, sitting at his desk and staring blindly at some papers.  Jean stood in the doorway with a concerned frown.

“What's wrong?” he asked.

Roy didn’t answer.  Jean walked over to the desk, snatching the papers out of Roy’s hand.  He knew it was trouble when the man didn’t even argue with him for doing it.

Jean read the forms that had been waiting on the fax machine for Sheska that morning. 

After a moment, he sighed harshly. 

“Looks like you actually did him a favor,” Roy said quietly. 

“Roy, I never meant for this to happen.”

“I know, Jean.  I know.”  Roy patiently held out his hand.

“Well, at least you know where he is now.  You could go see him,” Jean said, handing the papers back to him.

Roy laughed bitterly.  “I don’t think that even the most progressive parents would appreciate their son’s _former_ high school principal showing up on their doorstep to profess his love."

_If that’s even what it is._

“It’s over,” Roy said with dismal finality, turning the forms face-down on his desk. 

“But--”

“I have a lot of work to do.  If you don’t mind.”

Jean didn’t move.  “Look, Roy…”

Roy gave him his best impersonation of a smile. 

“I’m okay, Jean,” he insisted.  “I am.  This is all for the best.” 

Unconvinced but relenting, Jean slowly walked into the hallway.  He saw Roy's fake smile gradually fade as the door swung closed.

Troubled more than he would ever care to admit, Jean walked through the school lobby and into the boys’ locker room, inhaling the pungent smell of stale sweat and general guy funk.  He made his way into his office and immediately grabbed a pen and a piece of paper. 

He hated the dumb jock stereotype with a passion… even if it did hold a bit of truth.  He knew he had better write it down before his brain no longer agreed to retain it:

10310 Central Terrace.

It didn’t sound like any special address in particular, but Jean knew enough to deduct that anyone who could afford to have a lawyer fax a high school in the middle of a Sunday night for something as insignificant as a transfer of records must indeed be well-off. 

He didn’t yet know what he planned to do with the address.  Jean was a pro at stalking ex-lovers, but this was a different matter altogether and he racked his brain as best he could...  
  
*****

An hour later, as the first period bell rang and hyperactive teens began entering the locker room, a plan finally clicked into place.

Jean knew _exactly_ what he was going to do.


	12. Mom Knows Best

Against his better judgment, Ed wandered into the kitchen to watch Trisha cook.  It wasn’t so much that he minded the company; after the past three days of being alone with her, he was actually becoming quite accustomed to his mother’s presence.  But when he would indulge her folly by trying to cook himself… well…

Thankfully, the fire extinguisher had been enough yesterday.  Just barely.

She glanced over her shoulder and smiled.  It really was a nice smile; Ed could see where Al got it from. 

“Hello,” she greeted him cheerfully, as if he wasn’t just in there less than an hour ago to get a drink.

“Hi,” he said, taking a seat at the table behind her. 

She turned back to the stove without saying anything further, apparently aware that he had indeed reached the limit of his culinary abilities with the prior day’s exhibition in fire safety. 

He wasn’t slated to start school until the following week.  Ed had been impressed at the ease of the process; he was certain Izumi and Sig would have given more resistance to relinquishing him, considering it was a move into another county altogether as opposed to across town.  But they hadn’t.  And for some reason, Sig seemed to find the whole thing funny, making vague references to “serving that smug bastard right.”  He assumed that Sig meant Roy, even if he didn't understand the true meaning behind the statement. 

And so for the past few days, he found himself alone in his mother’s company during the day.  It was still awkward for him; he suspected it always would be to some extent.  But he had begun to find familiarity in that awkwardness, which he didn’t consider a bad thing.  He could tell that Trisha was holding her tongue, waiting for him to make some sort of move towards reconciliation, and there were moments when he wondered why he shouldn’t just give it all up and try to forgive them both as best he could.  Especially since he had made the decision to start a new life there.

But it wasn’t fair. It didn’t matter that they regretted their decision to give him up.  It didn’t matter that they both now seemed like the greatest parents alive.  None of that mattered at all.  After everything he had gone through in his life because of them, he was more than entitled to a grudge. Even if holding onto it wasn’t nearly as satisfying as he thought it would be.

“I know you must be bored without Al around.  I’m sorry,” she said over her shoulder, grinding pepper into something that Ed thought smelled incredibly delectable. 

“Hm?  Oh, no, I’m not bored at all.” And it was the truth.  After spending a lifetime in a social solitary, Ed had never been bored without the presence of another.  It was just that his little brother was so larger than life that everything seemed… less… when he wasn’t there. 

“How do you think you’ll like your new school?”

Ed drummed his automail fingers on the table and contemplated the question.  Anything had to be an improvement from his old school; and it already seemed as if he had made a couple of tentative friends in Fletcher and Russ. 

Plus, he would have Al.  Everything was better with Al. 

“I think I’ll be fine.  From what I could tell looking through Al’s books, the classes might actually be kind of harder here, but I think I’ll be o- hey!”

Ed’s heart thumped painfully in alarm as Trisha began to waver before reaching out to steady herself on the nearby countertop.  He sprinted to her and put his left hand, his real hand, on her shoulder.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Oh, nothing, I’m fine,” she answered.  “I think that the heat of the stove just got to me for a minute.”

Ed didn’t believe her.  And he really didn’t like the way she had gone noticeably pale.  “You sure?”

“Positive.” She gave him a wary smile.  “I have to go get something.  Could you keep an eye on the stove for me?”

Ed continued staring, concerned.

“I’ll just be a minute,” she added, thinking he was concerned more about having to be alone with the stove. 

“Okay,” he said. 

Trisha smiled again and gave his hand, which was still resting on her shoulder, a squeeze.  She walked slowly, almost gingerly, out of the kitchen.

Ed watched her go, feeling a sense of worry he never thought possible for a woman he hardly knew.

*****

“You’re sick, huh?  You seemed fine when I talked to you last night.”

Roy sat in his office, talking to one supposedly very ill gym teacher.

A questionably staged cough filtered through the phone line.  _“It just came on all of a sudden.  Strangest thing.”_

“Jean, if you’re going to fake an illness, you might want to at least try a little bit harder.  I had to call your cell phone to even get a hold of you and I can tell you’re in your car.”

Roy could almost see Jean smirking on the other end of the line.

_“I’m on my way to get a prescription, if you must know.”_

“Mm-hm.”

More faux coughing.

“You have plenty of vacation time to use if you need time off.  I wish you wouldn’t put me in awkward situations like this.  I am your employer, after all.”

_“And a pinnacle of ethics yourself, eh Boss?”_

Roy gritted his teeth.  “We have a sub to cover you through Friday.  If you still feel ‘sick’ come Monday, I would suggest you start using your vacation days, you ass.”

Jean chuckled.  _“Sure thing, Boss.”_

“Stop calling me that.”

_“Gotta go… Boss.”_ The phone clicked in Roy’s ear as Jean ended the connection. 

Bastard.

Roy hung up the phone, unable to shake the growing feeling that Jean Havoc was up to no good.

*****

Ed wandered around the spacious backyard of his family’s home, gazing out at the large, heated pool that occupied most of the property.  He wasn’t a good swimmer himself, never had been.  But he thought that he wouldn’t mind dipping his feet for a little while for the hell of it. 

He kicked off his shoes and walked over to the water.  He rolled the legs of his pants as far up as he could and carefully sat on the edge, lowering in his feet.  He kicked them lazily, enjoying the feeling of resistance against his real leg.

Staring down at his automail foot, Ed couldn’t help but think how startlingly different everyone’s reaction to his artificial limbs had been since he arrived there.  Al thought they were cool, Russ and Fletcher also thought so, and even Trisha and Hohenheim didn’t seem to mind.  It was a stark contrast to the looks of disgust, or sometimes even fear, that he had gotten his entire life. 

_I could be accepted here._ _I could be happy here._

The very idea astounded him; such a thing never seemed possible in all of his life.  

Except… Roy.  It was hard for Ed to believe that an entire week had passed since that last morning with him in the car, holding his hand, wanting to kiss him, wanting to--

“Mind if I join you?”

Trisha had come over to him, holding two towels in her hand and smiling warmly. 

“Sure.  I mean, no, I don't mind,” he said, a bit taken aback by the boldness of the gesture. 

Handing him one of the towels, she stepped out of her sandals and sat down beside him. 

They sat in contented silence, each swirling their feet around the warm water and thinking their own thoughts.  After a moment, Ed decided to speak up.

“How are you feeling?”  He had already asked her once after she came back into the kitchen, but felt compelled to ask again.

“I’m fine.” She turned to him and with an inquisitive tilt of the head asked him, “How are _you_ feeling?”

“Me?  I’m good. Why do you ask?”

“You seem happy to be here, Edward… if only for Al’s sake.” 

Ed didn’t miss the hint of disappointment in the last part of her statement. “I am,” he said.

“But at the same time, part of you seems so sad.”

Ed lowered his head.  There was no point in trying to deny it; even if she had missed out on the first seventeen years of his life, he had seen enough of her interactions with Al to know that her intuition was flawless.  He assumed it was an ability that all mothers had. 

Trisha nodded, knowing she’d hit the mark.  “Is it because of your… Well… is he your boyfriend, this person you like?”

Ed shook his head slowly.  “He’s…”

_\--my high school principal--_

“… I guess I don’t really know what to call him.”

“But the feelings you have for him, they’re mutual?”

Ed bit his lip and frowned in thought.  “I think so,” he finally said. 

“How does he feel about your moving here?”

“I don't know. I haven’t spoken to him since I left.”

Trisha Elric gave her son a shocked look.  “Why not?”

“Because it would only cause trouble.”

“Why would it cause trouble, Edward?”

Ed nervously picked at his pant leg, trying to think of a way to explain.  “It… he… his… position.  It would be trouble for him because of his position.”

“I see,” Trisha said softly, looking away.  Ed could only imagine the thoughts running through her mind.  He wanted to say more; he was surprised to find that he wanted to tell her everything.  But he couldn’t.  Not yet.

They were both silent, with only the sound of the water and chirping birds to interrupt them.

“This man,” she started, catching him off guard.  “He risked his… position… to be with you, right?”

Ed nodded.  “Yeah.”

“And did you hold a gun to his head to make him do this?”

He looked at his mother in surprise.  “No. Of course not.”

“Well, there you are,” Trisha said with a smile.  “He made a choice to be with you.  Regardless of the risk.”

“But--”

“No buts, Edward. Everyone is responsible for their own choices.  This man knew what he stood to lose and he still wanted to be with you.  We should all be so lucky to mean that much to someone.” She pulled her feet out of the pool and dried them off with the towel.  “Talk to him.  Or else he just might start thinking that you don’t want to.”

Trisha stood up and stepped into her sandals.  She touched Ed gently on the top of the head before going back into the house and leaving him alone with his thoughts.

Ed lifted his own feet out of the water and let them dangle.  His real foot had already wrinkled considerably.  He watched the water fall from this automail foot and began to shake it to get rid of every last drop; he didn’t want to inadvertently drip in the house. 

He felt a sense of hope at her words. Maybe she was right.  

With a large smile, Ed stood up and hastily stomped on the towel to dry his feet.  He could hear Al’s booming voice in the kitchen, having just got in from school.  Damned if the kid didn't have a big mouth. 

Roy would still be at school right now.  Ed decided to call his house and leave him a message; that way the decision to call back would fall on Roy.  It was the only way to be sure that his feelings really were the same as Ed's. And if they were, then maybe they could try to have something... something that could suffice until Ed graduated.  Having never been in any kind of relationship at all, Ed saw no reason why he couldn't handle a long distance one.    
  
But first, he had to call.

Ed picked up the trampled towel and began walking back to the house, just in time for Al to come outside and greet him.

“Brother!” He didn’t call him that very often, but when he did, Ed found it positively endearing. 

“Hey, Al.” Ed grinned as Al came up to him.  “How was sch--?”

His grin faltered when he saw Russ enter the backyard, watching him with the same intense look as he’d had at the mall. 

“Russ is staying over tonight,” Al explained.  “I’ve got a Trig test tomorrow morning that I _have_ to pass and he offered to help me study.  But it’s not like we’re going to ignore you or anything… um, Ed?  Are you okay?”

Russ stopped next to Al.  “Hey there.  Did you hear?” He smiled down at Ed.  It was almost predatory. “You’re going to be stuck with me for the whole night.”


	13. Change of Plans

_Ed was lying on his bed, leaning back on his elbows and watching the bedroom door with lustful urgency.  His long blond hair hung down his back and around his shoulders.   He was wearing only a pair of shorts, against which his growing excitement strained for freedom and release._

_The bedroom door creaked open… funny, because he had never noticed that creaking noise before._

_Roy Mustang walked into the room.  For some reason, he was wearing a blue military style uniform as opposed to his normal dress attire, but at that moment Ed couldn’t have cared less.  His heart and his cock both jumped for joy at the sight of him… never mind the fact that Ed couldn’t remember when he had spoken to Roy, let alone told him where he lived._

_“You came,” he said happily._

_Roy walked over to the bed, never taking his eyes away from Ed’s._

_“Not yet. You first.”  The older man reached out and gripped Ed’s hardness through the thin material of his shorts. He started stroking him vigorously._

_Ed’s eyes opened wide.  He hissed loudly and threw back his head, thrusting his hips in rhythm to Roy’s stroking._

_“Ahh!  Roy!” he panted._

_“I’m not Roy.”_

_Ed was too caught up in the volcanic eruption brewing in his groin to register the man’s statement.  He began to buck his hips even faster._

_“Roy,” Ed moaned helplessly._

_“I’m not Roy.”_

_Throughout his confusion, he continued pumping himself into Roy-not-Roy’s fist.  “I-I don’t understand...”_

_Roy-not-Roy leaned closely into Ed’s face.  Ed closed his eyes, thinking he was about to feel the lips he craved most touch upon his._

_“Wake up, Edward.  It’s not me.”_

_Confused by the strange whispered warning, Ed opened his eyes, wanting to look into Roy’s for clarification…_

*****

… and instead of gazing into the face of the man of his dreams, Ed’s waking eyes saw Russ, sitting on his bed with a hand down his shorts and wrapped around him.   


“What the fuck?!”

*****

Earlier that afternoon after Al had returned home from school with Russ in tow, Ed tried valiantly to capture a moment alone so that he could call Roy.  But Russ found every possible reason and scenario to monopolize his attention, supposedly all for the betterment of Al’s studies.  Ed could hardly use the bathroom in peace for Russ waiting for him behind the door to go next. 

He couldn’t even get away during dinner with Russ making a pointed effort to sit next to him. Even though he managed to maintain a mature and respectful conversation with Trisha and Hohenheim, discussing local and world events right in stride with the two adults, Ed could feel the boy’s presence lurking over him and making him grossly uncomfortable.

After dinner, when Al was finally convinced that he couldn’t possibly cram anymore knowledge of trigonometry into his head, he and Russ insisted that Ed join them in playing video games.  The three of them spent the rest of the evening killing each other repeatedly in a variety of first person shooter games.  Long after Al had given up trying to play against the two superior gamers, Russ and Ed carried on.  Russ had turned out to be a formidable opponent and Ed, succumbing to the spirit of competition, refused to stop playing until he had beaten him.

Only then did he finally retire to bed, deciding to call Roy first thing in the morning since the man had surely gone to bed by that late hour.  He fell back onto his pillow with a smile on his face in anticipation of hearing Roy’s voice; it already felt like it had been forever.

Ed felt himself growing stiff and sighed in exasperation at his apparent Pavlovian conditioning; the mere thought of Roy seemed to bring it to life anymore.  Of course, it didn’t help that Ed hadn’t done _that_ since he arrived there.  He had initially thought it too weird, but he would seriously reconsider that opinion come tomorrow night.  Maybe even twice.    

Not tonight, though.  He was tired and already half asleep; it would go down on its own soon enough.

*****

“What the _hell_ do you think you’re doing?!”

Ed stood angrily, fists clenched, staring down at Russ.  The state of his need was still quite noticeable, but momentarily forgotten.

Russ picked himself up from the floor, having just been the recipient of an automail foot to the chest.

“What do you mean, what am I doing?” His cool, blue eyes trailed down Ed’s chest to his crotch.  “You were obviously into it.”

Blushing, Ed immediately sat down on the bed and pulled the comforter into his lap.  “I was sleeping.”

“Really?” Russ inquired disbelievingly.  “You moan like that in your sleep?” 

“When I’m dreaming about the man I love having his hand on my dick?  Yeah, I do,” Ed said, blushing even more at his own bluntness but presently too pissed off to care.

Russ grinned bitterly in defeat.  “So I was half-right.  You _are_ into guys. Just not me.”

“I’m into a person.  _One_ person.  Who just happens to be a man.  That’s it _._   And don’t ever touch me like that again, or next time I won’t pull back.  I really don’t want to break your ribs.” Ed’s glare softened slightly.  “Look, Russ.  I’d really like to be friends with you.  But that’s all, okay?”

“I guess I’ll just have to work on changing that,” Russ muttered under his breath.

“What?”

Before Ed could get to the bottom of Russ’ not-so-cryptic mumbling, Al burst into the room bearing his nightly fast food fix. “Ed! There’s some--”

The young teen stopped and stared questioningly at the two of them, who looked away with matching guilty expressions.

“What’s going on?” Al asked.

“I couldn’t sleep,” Ed quickly answered.  “Russ was just keeping me company until you got back.”  In the farthest reaches of the universe, it was the truth.  In a way.  Sort of. He never, _ever_ wanted to get into the habit of lying to Al.  But at the same time, neither did he want to come between his friendship with Russ.

“Okay,” Al said cheerfully, accepting the explanation at face value. 

“I’m heading back.  See you in a second, Al.”  Russ clapped Al on the shoulder as he walked past him and stopped at the bedroom door.  “Goodnight, Ed.”

“’Night,” Ed said shortly as Russ left the room. He threw off the comforter.  Al’s interruption had promptly deflated him, although a dull, throbbing ache now resided in his groin. “What were you about to say?” 

“Oh yeah.  There’s someone outside to see you. A guy.”

Ed’s hopeful heart almost flew out of his chest.  “Wh-who??”

“He said his name was Havoc.”

Havoc?  Mr. Havoc?  What on earth was Mr. Havoc doing there?  Ed would have peeked out of his window, but it did not offer a view of the front of the house. 

“Is that … him?” Al asked shyly.

Ed grabbed a nearby shirt and put it on, trying to still his trembling hands.  “No,” he said.  “But you could say that he’s the reason I’m here.”

*****

He opened the door just in time to see the teacher pitch a cigarette butt into the garden bed.  Knowing how much time and energy Trisha personally put into her gardening, Ed bent over and grabbed it, along with two others the man had discarded there.  Just how the hell much did he smoke?

“Good to see you, Ed,” Jean smirked.

“What are you doing here?” Ed asked coldly, remembering the fear and heartache he suffered, initiated by the man in front of him. 

The older man lit another cigarette and exhaled slowly.  “Is that really a nice way to greet someone who took time off work and drove all this way just to see you?”

“Why?  Did something happen to Roy?”  Ed braced himself for the worst, and wondered if it would be possible to get away with kicking Havoc’s ass in the process.

“Roy?” Jean smirked again.  “No, Ed.  Nothing happened to Roy.”

Ed crossed his arms and waited.  Between being groped in his sleep and now this, his night was most certainly not going well at all.

“Look, kid.  I came to tell you the truth,” Jean started, exhaling a stream of smoke. Finding no response aside from Ed’s defiant glare, he continued.  “I never told anyone about you and Roy.  It was never my intention to tell anyone.  I guess I was just… jealous.”

Ed’s jaws dropped.  “Jealous?  Of what?”

“He didn’t tell you?”

Ed frowned.  “Tell me what?”

“About the two of us.”

“What _about_ the two of you?”  Ed tucked a flyaway strand of long blond hair behind his ear as he waited.

_“_ We’re together, Roy and I.  We have been for quite some time.”

“You’re a fucking liar,” Ed said.  “If you were telling the truth, then why--?”

“Why didn’t you know about it?  Because that’s how our arrangement works.  We have what you could call an ‘open’ relationship.  Whenever one of us sets our sights on someone, the other one backs off until he’s… had his fill.”

“You’ve already lied to me once.  I have no reason to believe you now.”

“True.  And I suppose it wouldn’t help if I told you about certain marks on his body in private places… or tattoos….  I could even tell you lengths and depths if you want,” Jean said, suggestively wiggling the first two fingers of his right hand with a cruel smile.  “But I guess you wouldn’t know about any of those things, would you?  Seeing as how I’m the only one between the two of us who’s actually been _inside_ of him.”

Ed began breathing in jagged gasps, as if the wind had been knocked out of him.  His knees buckled and he sat down on the doorstep with a thud.

“Why else do you think he hasn’t called you?”

“Get out of here,” Ed whispered.

“He gave up the chase as soon as you left--”

_“GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!!!”_ In a flash, Ed was launching at him. 

If Jean had been any less agile, his face would have surely been obliterated by the large, metal fist aimed squarely at his nose.  He quickly snapped his head to the side, feeling the breeze from Ed’s arm rush past his ear, and used the teen’s own momentum against him, grabbing him and pinning him face first on the ground. 

“Get off me!” Ed’s voice was muffled by the grass beneath him.  Dirt settled into his tear-stained face, creating a muddy mess.

Jean spit out the cigarette that was nestled between his teeth since both of his hands were presently occupied.  “Why should I? You just tried to attack me.”

“Fuck you.”  Ed buried his face in the grass and began crying softly.

With an emotionless expression, Jean stared at the back of the boy’s head, looking at his trademark braid.  “So now you’re going to cry about it?” he asked quietly.

“Leave me alone.”

“My pleasure.  Shall I tell Roy the same thing since you’re too much of a fucking coward to say anything to him?”

The crying and struggling beneath Jean came to a sudden halt. 

“What did you say?” Ed croaked.

“You heard me.”  Jean got up and pulled Ed to his feet.  The two would-be enemies cautiously stared at each other. 

“Have you even thought about him _once_ since you’ve been here?” Jean asked.

“Of course I have,” Ed insisted.  “He’s all I think about.”

“And how _the fuck_ is he supposed to know that?”

Ed’s mouth fell open in shock.  “I thought… well… because _you--”_

Jean waved his hand at the unimportance of Ed’s reasoning.  “Yeah, yeah, yeah.  I’m an asshole for lying and that's why you left. But are you honestly going to try and tell me that's why you didn’t call him? At _all_?”

“Edward?”

He didn’t need to turn around to know that Trisha was standing in the open doorway, watching the confrontation with great concern.  What he didn’t see was that Hohenheim was using all of his strength to hold Al back. 

“I’m fine,” he said over his shoulder.  “I’ll be there in a minute.”

He waited patiently for the door to close before speaking. 

“So what you said at first… that was all just another lie?”

“Not exactly,” Jean said, lighting a fresh cigarette.  “Roy and I _were_ together for about two years.  We did have an open relationship.  At least as far as I was concerned.  He broke it off a few months ago.”

“Do you still love him?”

“Kid, I drove all day just to call you out for ignoring him.  What do you think?” Jean took a few steps backwards.  “Doesn’t matter though.  He loves _you_.  So call him and break it off, or call him and make it work.  Either way, stop leaving him in the goddamn dark.”

“I was going to…”

“But you didn’t.  And by the way, the reason he never called _you_ was because you told him you were okay and hung up on him.  Why would he, after that?  Do you have the slightest fucking clue what he’s been going through since you left?  Do you have any idea how much you broke his fucking heart?  You selfish little shit.”

Jean pitched his cigarette on the ground at Ed’s feet and walked down the driveway towards his car.

“Fix it, Ed.  One way or the other,” he called out.  “Don’t make me have to come back here.”

Jean got into his car and peeled away.  Ed could hear the sound of the descending engine for a full minute after it left the driveway. 

Wiping his face, Ed slowly picked up the cigarette butt. 

After a moment of consideration, he turned and slowly walked back into the house. 

*****

Roy’s first truly peaceful night of sleep was interrupted by the blaring ring of the phone.  He sat up with a start and cursed Alexander Graham Bell to hell.  By the time he was coherent enough to consider answering it, the downstairs machine picked up and he was blessed with silence.  He flopped back down onto his pillow and closed his eyes.

The ringing started again.  He reached out and grabbed the phone on the third try. 

“Jean,” he whispered hoarsely.  “So help me God, you better be dead.”

_“… Um… I’m sorry I woke you.”_

Roy’s eyes flew open.  He could not have been more awake if someone had doused him with cold water.

“Edward?”

He heard sniffling on the other line and his heart clenched in panic.

“Edward.  What’s wrong?”

More sniffling.  _“Nothing…. I just… I just wanted to hear your voice.  I’m sorry.”_

Roy had never been more grateful in his life for lying down.  He squeezed his eyes shut as he focused on the sound of Ed’s voice, pressing his ear hard against the phone as if that would somehow bring him closer to the teen.

“Stop apologizing,” he said softly, trying to keep his voice from cracking. 

_“_ _Roy_ _… I…”_ Ed’s voice was interrupted by a loud banging noise; someone was knocking on his door, Roy suspected.

“Edward?”

_“_ _Roy_ _, hold on.”_   Then, in a voice not meant for him, Roy heard Ed yell, _“WHAT?!”_

Roy opened his mouth to speak but stopped when he heard a large booming noise and what sounded like another young man’s yelling.

A brother perhaps.  If Ed was living with his family, it was not unlikely that he would have siblings.

Ed had his mouth away from the phone, but Roy could still hear his agitation.

_“What do you want, I’m on the ph--”_

The line went dead.

“Edward?”

Roy frowned and immediately tried to call him back. He was taken straight to Ed’s voice mail. 

As he was on the second, third, and fourth tries as well.

It could be nothing.  Nothing at all.

But that did little to ease the stab of fear in his heart.

*****

Ed looked at the corpse of his phone, lying in pieces on the floor where Russ had thrown it after snatching it out of his hand.

“You broke my goddamn phone!” 

He was batting a thousand with the profanity tonight.  He glared at Russ, more than prepared to give him a taste of automail again.

Russ grabbed him by the arms and gave him a hard shake.

“Will you _shut up and listen to me?!_   Your mother just collapsed!  Al’s calling for an ambulance.  Get your fucking ass out there NOW!”


	14. Bittersweet Symphony

He sat in the waiting room, resting his elbows on his knees.  His hair was loose and hung down around him, curtaining his face, veiling his crying eyes. 

_Inoperable…_

Someone sat down next to him.  A soothing hand rubbed his back. 

_… brain…_

He didn’t care.  He didn’t care about anything.

_… tumor…_

Except that his mother was dying. 

*****

Roy had to be up for work in an hour. Problem was, he was up now, pacing by the phone and willing it to ring.   

He didn’t think anything had happened to Ed. But that didn’t mean something hadn’t happened. 

“Edward,” he said, unaware that he had even spoken aloud.

*****

Ed looked up.  Checking the clock on the wall, he realized that he had been sitting there for the past hour and a half, with no word from anyone. 

He glanced over at Al, who was sitting across from him, sleeping fitfully in a chair.  He felt a wave of fierce protective love wash over him, causing him to feel guilty for stewing in his own thoughts.  Al needed him now; the last thing he should be doing was drowning in his own sorrow.  He had taken on the mantle of big brother; he needed start acting like one.  Especially now.

But first, there was something he desperately needed to do.

“Russ,” he said, wiping his face and turning his head to look at the young man sitting next to him.  “I need to use your phone, please.”

*****  
  
Finally.

It wasn’t a number he recognized, but who else would be calling him at this hour?

With his heart in his throat, Roy answered the phone before the second ring.

“Hello?”

_“Roy?”_

Relief rendered him weak-kneed.  He sat down on the couch before speaking again.  “Yeah?”

_“I can’t talk long. I’m at the hospital--”_

“What happened?” 

_“My… my mother. She’s sick.”_

“Is it bad?”

_“Yeah.  Yeah, it is.”_  

The desolation in Ed’s voice made Roy’s heart ache. 

_“I just didn’t want you to worry about me,”_ the teen continued.  _“I’ll call you as soon as I can.”_

“I’ll be right here,” Roy promised. 

Though their connection was not the clearest, Roy distinctly heard a small whimper fall from the boy’s lips.  He squeezed his eyes shut and ran a hand over his face. 

_“Roy?”_

“Yeah?”  His voice was choked; he didn’t think he would be able to speak much longer without breaking down.

_“I just want you to know that… I… I really… “_

_*****_

“… I really miss you,” Ed finished.

Not that it wasn’t true; Ed missed Roy insanely.  The sound of his voice alone was enough to make him sad and hard at the same time.  But it wasn’t exactly what he meant to say, and the contemplative pause on the other end of the line told Ed that Roy knew that as well. 

_“I miss you too, Edward,”_ Roy said. 

They fell silent.  Ed could have stayed there forever, listening to Roy breathe. Unfortunately...

“… I have to go. I’ll call you when I can.”

_“Alright. Goodnight, Edward.”_

“’Night.”

He stayed on the line until the older man ended the call. 

Looking out at the emergency room parking lot, taking in all of the cars and rescue vehicles and people, Ed had a sudden urge to run away and try in whatever way humanly possible to forget the past two weeks had ever happened. 

Instead, he pushed away the random selfish thought and went back into the hospital to rejoin his family. 

*****

He came upon Hohenheim and Russ in the waiting area. Al was nowhere to be seen. 

“She’s alert.  More than alert; she already wants to come home.  They’re keeping her for the night and will run more tests tomorrow,” Hohenheim informed him.  “Your brother is in with her right now.”

Ed handed Russ the phone, all the while fixing his birth father with a cool glare.

“Russ, could you give us a minute?”

Russ glanced between the two of them, and, having already had a taste of Ed’s anger that night, wisely obeyed. “Sure.  I’m going to go ahead and take off anyway.  I’ll check back in tomorrow, okay?  Goodnight.”

He made his escape, leaving the father and son, who were more alike than they would ever know, to a face-off.

“You wish to say something to me?”  Hohenheim sat down in a nearby chair.

“You’re goddamn right I do,” Ed said quietly.  “I can almost understand if the two of you wanted to keep this a secret from me. I’m practically a stranger to you.  But how could you not tell Al something like this?”

“It was your mother’s wish for Alphonse not to know,” Hohenheim stated. 

“Why?” Ed asked, crossing his arms indignantly.

“Because she didn’t want to see him lose his… light.  At least not any sooner than he had to.” 

Ed understood that much. He had uprooted his entire life just to be closer to him, after all. 

“And as for you,” Hohenheim continued.  “She didn’t want you to know because she wanted you to forgive her of your own free will and not because she was sick.” He sighed sadly.  “So, _son_ , if you still feel justified in your anger, by all means, wallow in it.  But I must ask that you direct it at me and not your mother.  I will gladly bear the brunt of your hatred. She has suffered enough.”

“Ed?”

Ed turned and saw Al, looking like a frightened little boy. 

“Mom wants to see you,” he said.

“Okay.”  Ed approached Al. His eyes were red from crying, making Ed hurt all over even more.  If there had been any way he could have taken Al’s sadness into himself, he would have. Anything to rid the boy of his heartache. 

He patted his brother on the shoulder and walked away quickly, before Al could see the tears in his own eyes.

He made his way to the entrance of his mother’s room and stood there, gathering his thoughts and ignoring the curious glances of the night staff around him. 

_She didn’t want you to know because she wanted you to forgive her of your own free will._

Ed entered the room.

*****

“I’m sorry I kept you guys up so late.”

She was still beautiful, sitting up in the bed and wearing a most unflattering hospital gown.  She smiled warmly at him and beckoned him over.

“You hardly did it on purpose,” Ed said, taking a seat in a chair by the bed.  “How are you feeling?”

“Tired,” she said with a defeated smile.  “And how about you?”

Ed shrugged.  “I’m okay.”

Her smile faded into a serious, sorrowful expression. “I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you,” she started.  “I just didn’t want you to--”

“I know.  I know why you didn’t tell us.  I understand.”

Trisha smiled again and changed the subject. “Did you call your guy?”

“I did.”

“And?”

“And… I don’t know yet.  But I think, maybe, we’re going to try and make it work.”

Trisha beamed.  “I’m glad to hear that. The man who came to the house...” 

“My gym teacher,” Ed said bluntly.

Trisha cocked her head to the side as if she didn’t hear him correctly.  “Your… _gym teacher_?”

Ed nodded.

“Your… boyfriend… is also a … teacher?” she asked.

Ed bit his lip.  “He’s not a _teacher_.” 

Trisha watched him, waiting for clarification.

Ed sighed.  There really was no easy way around it. “He’s… well, he _was_ … my… principal.”

He saw her eyes widen slightly before looking away. 

“Oh. Oh my. Well…” she started slowly.  “As I told you earlier, you must… you must really mean a lot to him that he was willing to risk his career to be with you. What’s his name?”

“Roy.”

“Roy,” she mused.  “I would have liked...” she paused, rethinking her words. “Make sure he takes good care of you. And you take care of him as well.”

Unaware that he was even crying until he felt tears fall down his cheeks, Ed leaned forward and rested his head on her lap, his face turned toward her feet.  He gasped in fits, choking back his sobs as much as possible, and hating the unfairness of it all.  Was this all some sort of grand master plan fate had to make him forgive her sooner?  Well, if so, he decided to never forgive her at all. That way, she would have to live until he did… right?

He closed his eyes as she ran her fingers through his hair. 

“This is going to sound quite silly,” she said.  “I've wanted to brush your hair ever since you’ve been here.”

“I’ll bring you a brush tomorrow,” he muttered into her thigh. 

Trisha laughed and patted him on the head.  “Deal.  But for now, go home and get some sleep.”

Ed sat up.  “I want to stay,” he said stubbornly, wiping his eyes.

“You _all_ want to stay.”  Trisha shook her head.  “Your father is going to take you both home so you can sleep in your own beds.  With any luck, I’ll check out of here tomorrow as soon as the doctors poke and prod me just a little bit more.” 

“But--”

“No buts, Edward.”

Ed concluded that particular response must have been a staple in Trisha’s maternal vocabulary, having heard it twice over the last twelve hours. “Fine,” he relented. 

Trisha grinned.  “Okay.  I’ll see you tomorrow.  And don’t forget that brush,” she said with a smile.

Ed stood up and slowly walked over to the door.  He stopped and looked back at his mother. She was still smiling. 

He didn’t know how much time they had left together.  However long, he was determined to make the most of it.

It was at that moment when he realized that it was no longer an issue of forgiving her, but simply telling her that he already had. 

But not tonight.  It was already late and she looked very tired. 

Tomorrow.  As early as possible, he would be back tomorrow.  With a brush.

“Goodnight,” he said.

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” Trisha said. 

*****

Trisha leaned back against her pillow and cried. 

He hadn’t said the words, but she felt them all the same.

It was all that she had wanted since the day she gave him away. 

Her frail body, which had clung to life much longer than intended, could finally rest.

An hour later, she suffered a series of massive seizures and died.

*****

_The train sped along the tracks at a constant speed.  He did not know where he was going; nothing seemed familiar to him at all._

_He was sitting with Al.  But this Al was not his Al.  This Al was a large, empty suit of armor._

_Strange._

_He looked out of the window at the passing land._

_Just up ahead, he saw her._

_She was waving._

_He didn’t take his eyes off of her as the train approached.  She continued waving to him as the train passed, until she was out of sight._

_He turned and faced the front again, trying to make sense of it all._


	15. This Too Shall Pass

Ed had never felt more alone in his seventeen years than he did at that moment. He closed his eyes, frowning against the offensive sting of tears he had yet to let fall.

It was a windy day, as far as funeral weather went.  Windy enough for his coat, which he hadn’t worn since the night he fainted on the doorstep. A lifetime ago, or so it seemed. 

He stood in a remote corner of the cemetery, far removed from the interment ceremony being held for his mother.  His long, blond hair was loose and blew gently in the air around him; he hadn’t braided it since she went into the hospital that night. 

Looking past the faces of kin that he had yet to meet, he found Al, who looked so lonely and lost that Ed hurt all over from not being able to stand beside him.  At one point, Ed saw the young teen hang his head, his shoulders jerking from sobs, and he came very close to abandoning his plan to go and comfort him.  The poor kid had already been in such a bad way over the past few days, walking around in a constant red-eyed daze during the day and crying himself to sleep in Ed’s bed at night.  Ed hated the thought of leaving him alone, even for a few hours, to fend for himself.  It wasn’t as if Hohenheim was much help; the man was too caught up in his own grief to pay heed to his son’s. 

But then he thought of Trisha.  Ed desperately wanted to support his brother, but today was about her.  

He had decided not to attend the services to avoid any unwanted attention from her relatives; there would be future opportunities to meet the people that she had called family.  But in the meantime, this day was for remembering her, not for introducing himself to them.  Not for their gawking and gazing and questioning and judgment, of which he imagined there would be plenty.  The last thing he dreamed of doing was eclipsing the memory of his mother by reminding everyone of his own forgotten existence. 

Al had reluctantly accepted this, despite his initial pleas to the contrary.  Hohenheim, on the other hand, readily accepted Ed’s logic and did not even attempt to convince him otherwise.  For some reason, this upset Ed more than he cared to admit and he found himself wondering if his… _father_ still considered him an embarrassment.  Well, if that was the case, then...

_Fuck him,_ Ed thought, surprising himself with his profanely blunt sentiment. 

He felt a hand on his shoulder and closed his eyes, letting himself imagine, if only in passing, that it belonged to Roy.  But it wasn’t. Not even close.

“We should probably get going before anyone sees us,” Russ said. 

Ed sighed and nodded.  His eyes swept across the sea of mourners one last time before he turned and walked away, his hair and coattail trailing in the breeze behind him. 

*****

“Last one?” Jean asked, nudging a small box that sat by the fireplace with his foot.

“Yeah,” Roy said, staring contemplatively at it. 

Jean took a drag from the cigarette securely clamped between his clenched teeth and exhaled a stream of smoke.  “I could leave it.  You know, in case you change your mind.”

“No.”  Roy looked at the now empty mantel above the fireplace upon which the photographs of Maes and Elysia had rested after the night of his last drinking _… incident_ when he had broken the small table where they originally resided. “It’s about time I said goodbye to the shrine,” he said, knowing full well he had a picture of the both of them in his wallet that he would never take out.  “Besides, it’ll be all the less for me to pack once I figure out where I’m going.”

“I can’t believe you’re going to sell this place,” Jean said as Roy handed him an ashtray before he could pitch his butt in the fireplace.

“This is a house for a family.  And since I no longer have one of those, there’s no reason to keep it.”  Roy walked over to the couch and sat down, staring blindly at the muted television. 

Jean sat down on the opposite end and plopped his feet onto the coffee table, lighting another cigarette.  “Why, Mr. Mustang, that sounds like self-pity to me.”

Roy shook his head.  “No, it’s just the truth.”

“What about Ed?  The two of you could do the happily ever after thing here.”

“He’s not coming back, Jean.  And you know that as well as I do.”  Roy picked up the remote and began to surf silently through the channels.  “It’s just as good as over. Not that it ever _was_ anything to begin with.”

“That fucking kid loves you, Roy.  And you love him.”

“Do I?”  Roy shook his head again.  “Or am I just a thirty-three year old pervert preying on an innocent boy?”

“You’re a jackass,” Jean surmised, grounding out his cigarette and standing up.  He pulled a padlock key out of his pocket and tossed it onto Roy’s lap.  “Don’t lose that key; I’ve got valuable shit in that storage unit.”

Roy twirled the key around in his fingers as Jean picked up the box holding the last remnants of his family; he had long since put away every home video, card, and other heartbreaking memento of his former life. 

“You know,” Jean said, standing by the door.  “Sometimes people _do_ fall in love for the wrong reason. But it doesn’t mean that love isn’t real.”

Roy looked at his ex.  The two men stared at each other across the living room.

After a moment, Jean smirked.  “At least, that’s what I heard in some chick flick.”

“I didn’t know you watched chick flicks,” Roy said with a small smile.

“I do when I want to get down a chick’s pants,” Jean informed him.  “Pizza?”

“Sure.”

Jean nodded and walked out of the house. 

Roy turned back to the television and stretched out on the couch, staring up at the ceiling and trying not to obsess about what Ed was doing or whether or not he would call tonight.

His mother’s funeral had been earlier in the day; beginning approximately the same time he was taking a student to task for swearing at Kain Fuery, who was proving to be only slightly less worthless in the classroom.  Roy had wanted nothing more than to be there; he had been more than prepared to hop in his car the minute Ed told him that she had died.  However…

_I don’t want you to come, Roy.  I mean, I want you to come, but… I just really need to be here for Al right now.  And if you come here, then all I’m going to think about is you._

Roy crossed an arm over his eyes, feeling helpless and hopeless.  He tried to persuade himself to get up and get some much needed work done and in so thinking, dozed off.  He was unaware he had even fallen asleep until Jean rather rudely dropped a hot, steaming pizza box on his chest and griped at him to wake his lazy ass up.

And just when he was starting to credit the man with a little humanity.

*****

While Russ and Al were out delivering most of the tons of food they had received from family and well-wishing friends to various shelters around the city, Ed stared at the vast wall of books lining his father’s office, once again, feeling very much the stranger.  He wasn’t expressly forbidden from being in the room, but he felt unwelcome all the same.

His eyes happened upon a book that caught his attention and he grabbed it, holding it in his hands and staring fixedly at the cover.

“Did you find something that you like?”

Ed jumped, and was immediately annoyed at himself for doing so.  He spotted Hohenheim watching him carefully. 

“Sorry,” he muttered, raising the book to replace it on the shelf.

“No, don’t.  It’s alright.”  The older man approached him and took the book from Ed’s hands, staring down at it. “Hm.  _Real Alchemy:  A Primer of Practical Alchemy._ I didn’t realize that you were interested in this sort of thing.”

“I was born without an arm and a leg.  I still have a brain,” Ed replied scornfully. 

“I wasn’t implying that you didn’t,” Hohenheim said, handing the book back to him.  He removed his glasses and faced his son.  They were a mirror image of the other, save for the years between them. 

Ed stared down at the book at his hand.  He still had no idea what to make of the man; his presence was a stark contrast from the calm and soothing aura that Trisha and Al both effortlessly exuded. “Thanks for the book.  I’ll have it back soon,” he muttered, walking away.

“Edward.”

He stopped without turning around.  “Yeah.”

“I was hoping that we could talk about what would happen next, now that this is… done.”

“You want me to leave?” Ed turned around, glaring at him.  He should have seen this coming.  He should have known it would only be a matter of time before--

“Of course not,” Hohenheim said, interrupting all of Ed’s self-defeating thoughts. 

“Then what is it?”

Hohenheim pulled out a handkerchief and cleaned his glasses.  “I know that the only reason you agreed to live here was for Alphonse.” He put his glasses on before continuing.  “What your mother and I had hoped for, and what we discussed at length, was whether or not you would consider staying permanently.  Especially since…”

“Since what?” Ed asked. 

Hohenheim sighed. “Since I’ll soon be leaving too.”

*****

“Ed?  Can I come in?”

Ed looked up from the opened but as yet unread alchemy book sitting in his lap.  “Sure,” he said. 

Al came in, closing the door behind him and sitting down next to Ed’s outstretched legs.  “Russ wanted me to tell you to call him whenever you’re ready to get a new phone.  Oh, and he asked when we were going back to school… well, when _I_ was going back and when _you_ were going to finally start.”

Ed shrugged. He really hadn’t given it much thought.  “Next week, I guess.  But if you’re ready to go back before that, then you should.”

“I’m not going back without you,” Al said in a small, stubborn voice.

“Then next week it is,” Ed concluded. 

Al kicked off his shoes and stretched out on the bed, resting his feet on the pillow that he had been using for the past four nights. 

“Ed?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you okay?”

“As much as I can be, Al.  Are you?”

“I’m better than I was, I guess.”

“That’s good.”  Ed smiled down at his little brother. 

They sat in silence for a few minutes before Al spoke again. 

“Ed?”

“Yeah?”

“I know that Roy is a… principal and all… but… well… I don’t know.  I guess I just kind of thought that he might… you know…”              

“He wanted to come, Al.  He really did,” Ed informed him.  “But I asked him not to.”

Al lifted his head and gaped at his brother.  “You _what?_   Why would you do that?”

“Because,” Ed began.  “I just wanted to concentrate on being here for you and _\-- OW!!!”_

He grabbed his arm and stared at Al in shock.  “Why the hell did you kick me?”

“Because you’re a jackass.”  Al sat up and glowered at him. 

“Why am I a jackass?”  Ed was as surprised by his brother’s use of profanity as he was by being kicked.

“Because you didn’t need to do that,” Al insisted.

“But--”

“No buts, Edward,” Al said, causing him to gasp at his use of Trisha’s trademark admonition. 

“Al…” Ed began.

“Ed,” he countered.  “If we’re going to be a part of each other’s lives, then that means you can’t put yours on hold for me.”

Ed looked down at his lap.  “Al, I just… I just thought that this was best.”

“And I thought you were smarter than that.”

Al smiled sweetly.  He looked so much like Trisha that Ed’s heart ached once again at the sight of it.

“All of this time you were taking care of me because I was so out of it,” Al continued.  “I think it would have been nice if he could have been here to take care of _you_.  Don’t you think so?”

Ed was silent.  Between losing his mother, missing Roy, wanting to look after his brother, and considering what Hohenheim had said to him, things that he could not yet reveal to Al, Ed simply didn’t know what to think about anything anymore. 

“I think you know what you need to do,” Al said. 

After a moment, Ed nodded.  He did know. 

And now that he knew, he couldn’t do it soon enough.

*****

Roy was cramming half-eaten-pizza-slices-turned-ashtrays into the garbage disposal, both disgusted and amazed at Jean’s slobbish ways, when the phone began to ring.  He quickly wiped crumbs and ash from his hands and grabbed the kitchen phone.

“Hello?”

_“Hi Roy.”_

 “Hello Edward.”  Roy’s heart was racing.  “How…” he started, unsure of how to phrase himself.  “How was it?”

_“It was… however funerals are supposed to be, I guess.”_

Roy figured as much, suspecting that it was the first funeral Ed had ever witnessed--even from afar--for someone he actually cared about. 

_“Roy?”_

“Yes?”

_“Can you come see me?”_

Roy closed his eyes and smiled.  He opened his mouth to speak and closed it, taking a moment to regain his composure.

_“Roy?”_

“When should I come?” he managed.

He heard the teenager heave a large sigh some hundreds of miles away. 

_“Soon,”_  Ed said. _“As soon as you can.”_


	16. Providence

Eight more days.

He would finally see Ed in eight more days.

So close yet so far away.

Roy had once again been more than ready to drop everything and hop in his car to make the hundreds-mile-long journey to 10310 Central Terrace, work be damned; that’s what vice principals were for.  But Ed had reluctantly decided on the weekend after next, stating that there were some “family issues” that needed to be resolved first.  Roy was unsure what that even meant, but assumed it was in regards to his mother.  He trusted Ed would tell him everything when the time was right.

He walked into school that Friday with somewhat of a spring in his step; his disposition was so sunny at the weekly faculty gathering that everyone took notice.  Even Jean was kind enough to point out that he was acting like a happy pansy after the meeting.

“Says the man whose primary objective in life is to probe more anuses than a proctologist,” Roy said with a wry smile, leaving Jean gape-mouthed.

In truth, he _did_ feel totally and utterly giddy, and he couldn’t help himself.  It was the first time in almost a month that he felt at peace with himself and his feelings.  He wasn’t a pervert.  Chris Hanson wasn’t going to come calling, asking him why he _was_ one,  and most importantly, he had finally accepted that his feelings, despite the circumstances under which they had come into being, were real and true and no one would ever be able to convince him otherwise. 

Roy’s high spirits continued throughout the day and into the evening, where he actually cooked for himself for the first time in over a week. As he sat down to eat, pouring himself a glass of wine with absolutely no more desire to drown himself in alcohol,  the doorbell rang. 

Thinking it was Jean--who else would come calling this late in the day?- -Roy walked over to the door, preparing a mental list of witty replies to whatever smartass remarks were surely to come flying out of the man’s mouth. He glanced through the peephole, fully expecting to see his spiky two-toned head of hair, perhaps giving him the finger, which would not have been the first nor last time Jean greeted him in such a way. 

Instead, Roy saw nothing.

Frowning, he was about to walk away from the door when the bell chimed again. 

But he still couldn’t see a thing. 

_What the hell?_ he thought, unlocking the door and opening it.

He dropped to his knees; there was no way on earth his legs would support him at that moment.

It was just as well. This way, he was able to look his little girl in the eyes.

*****

“Daddy Roy!!!”

Elysia Hughes, now six, jumped into Roy’s arms, almost bowling him over in the process, and wrapped her small, strong arms around his neck in a stranglehold.  A whiff of her hair sent a flood of memories pouring into his mind and he buried his face in the crown of her head, breathing her in, hugging her back, almost crushing her for want of making up for three years of empty arms. 

“Oh, my baby,” he whispered, wiping his tears in her hair.  “My baby… my baby…” was all he could say. 

Through blurred vision, he saw Gracia standing at the edge of the driveway, holding a small backpack ( _backpack?_ ) and glaring at him.  But he didn’t care. 

He didn’t care about anything, except that his daughter was home. 

*****

_“Hello, Edward… my son.  I so wanted to call you that to your face.  But I  never knew how you would react to it… and so I didn’t._

_“I just wanted to take a minute to say some things to you…. Um.  Let’s see… first, I want you to know that in the time you’ve been with us… I had my will revised.  I’d always had every intention of leaving you something, even if you had never come home.  But now that you are home, you and your brother will split everything down the middle, fifty-fifty.  I don’t think Alphonse will care, because you mean more to him than any of that… that’s quite obvious._

_“And speaking of your brother, I’d like to ask, Edward, that you take care of him. Don’t let him lose his sweetness.  He was always just the sweetest child. That’s why I didn’t want him to know.  He’s going to need you… especially now that your father will be leaving._

_“Edward.  I know that you aren’t… I know that you don’t seem to get on as well with your father as you do with Alphonse or me… well… at least I like to think that we were getting along alright.  Dear heart, if my word means anything to you at all, then please believe me when I say that your father loves you. He loves you very much._

_“There were so many things that Hohenheim and I wanted to do that my illness prevented.  My dream… I wanted to see the world.  We had always meant to, but then we just kept putting it off and putting it off and then I got sick.  I made your father promise that he would live out those dreams that we had the minute I was gone. It wasn’t something that he necessarily wanted to do, but I think that it would be good for him to get away for awhile._

_“So please.  Please don’t think that he is abandoning you.  This is what I want.  And Edward… you and I both know that you’re the one… you’re the one Alphonse really needs.  I believe with all of my heart that as long as he has you, he’ll be okay._

_“Well then.  I think that was about it. It’s really a bit surreal to sit here and record this, knowing that when you hear it… I’ll be gone.  Especially because I’m looking out of my bedroom window right now, watching you walk around the backyard. What are you thinking about, I wonder?  Your fellow, perhaps?_

_“Oh, and now it looks like you’re about to dip your feet in the pool. I think I’ll go out and join you._

_“Edward… I love you… I’ve always loved you… always. Please know that.  And maybe… when you can… love me too?_

_“Goodbye.”_

_*****_

Al had finally stopped crying an hour after listening to his own pre-recorded message from Trisha. 

She’d made one for each of them; telling them each things meant for their own ears.  Ed hadn’t even had time to react to his own personal message before Al came barging into his room and fell sobbing onto his bed. 

But that was alright.  The poor kid had sixteen years with her compared to his measly few weeks; as sad as Ed was, he couldn’t even begin to imagine Al’s agony. 

He stroked Al’s hair, which he could have sworn was getting a bit longer in the back.  He’d resigned himself to wearing his own  hair in a ponytail now; that it was the same way his father wore his hair was a thought he did not allow to surface. 

*****

Hohenheim stood outside of the door until Al’s crying subsided. 

He raised a hand to the door to knock… and then closed it into a fist. It seemed as if Ed was more of a father to Al right now than he could ever dream of being. 

He lowered his hand, and his head, and walked away.

*****

“I’m getting married.”

Gracia casually made the announcement while sitting on a chair opposite Roy and Elysia, who was happily and busily coloring a picture for him. 

“Oh?  Well, congratulations,” Roy said, unsure of what else to say.

“I’m gonna be a flower girl!” Elysia exclaimed, picking out a bright yellow crayon to color a sun.

Roy rubbed the top of her pigtailed head.  “And I bet you’re going to be the most beautiful flower girl ever.”

She looked up at him and smirked. 

She _smirked._

Roy shut his eyes and discreetly turned an escaped moan into the clearing of his throat. 

Elysia was the spitting image of her mother as far as outward appearances went; there was no denying that.  But that was where the similarity ended; her personality was pure Maes.  It always had been.

“We’re going to be moving to Japan,” Gracia added, sipping from a cup of coffee. 

Roy looked up sharply.  “What?”

“Kooooooo-neeeeeee-cheeeeeee-waaaaaaaah!” Elysia added. 

Gracia set the coffee down and folded her hands in her lap, fixing Roy with an unpleasant gaze.  “Japan,” she confirmed.  “Vato, my fiancé, is being stationed there and so that is where we will be living.”

“Look, Daddy Roy!” Elysia held up her masterpiece for his approval.

Roy looked down at her picture and smiled warmly at her.  “That’s beautiful, Leesee,” he said, grabbing her tiny hand and kissing it, fully aware of--but wisely ignoring-- Gracia’s expression.

“For how long?” he asked, after the little girl resumed her coloring.

“Five years,” Gracia answered. 

Roy  swallowed hard and felt his heart sink.

Five years.

He hadn't seen her once since Maes died, but she had still been close enough for him to come running if she ever needed him.  But moving to the other side of the planet?

“I’m staying with a girlfriend tonight and I thought, if you didn’t have any plans for the evening, that she could spend the night before we leave tomorrow morning.”

“Of course she can,” Roy said, staring down at the top of his daughter’s head. 

“Good.  Thank you for the coffee,” she said, standing up.  “Elysia, give Mommy a kiss?”

Elysia gave her mother a token peck on the cheek before getting back to work. 

Roy gently rubbed the little girl’s back.  “Elysia, stay right here.  I’m going to walk your Mommy to the car, okay?”

“’Kay.”

Roy stood up and walked over to the door.  He opened it for Gracia, who walked past him without so much as a thank you.

*****

“Gracia.”

“What is it, Roy?”

She refrained from opening the door long enough to glare at him. 

“Please,” he pleaded.  “While you’re over there, please don’t keep her from contacting me, if that’s what she wants.”

Gracia shook her head.  “Are you serious?  You’re lucky you got this.  The only reason she’s here is because she would have had a tantrum all the way home if I didn’t take her to see her precious Daddy Roy.”

Roy clenched his teeth.  “I know that,” he said softly.  “I know that, and I thank you.  You have no idea how much it means to me.  But--”

“But nothing, Roy.  Legally, you’re shit to her. Don't forget that.” 

Gracia got into the car and slammed the door. 

Roy leaned down to the window to speak, hoping she wouldn’t pick that moment to drive off and run over his feet.   

This wasn’t about Elysia. It never had been.

“I didn’t make him gay, Gracia.”

“I’ll be back tomorrow morning,” she muttered as she turned on the car’s engine. 

Roy backed away from the car just in time for it to squeal away from the curb. 

Nothing. There was absolutely nothing he could do. After tomorrow, there was a strong possibility that he would never see Elysia again.

But for now, that was neither here nor there.

Roy walked back into the house to spend whatever time he had left with his little girl before it was gone. 

*****  
  
“I’ll be back before you know it,” Hohenheim told Al. 

“When exactly is ‘before you know it?’” Al asked.  “How long is your leave of absence?”

“Three months.  Just long enough for you to start wishing I’d never come back.”

“Dad,” Al said, hugging the man for the millionth time that morning.

Hohenheim tore himself away from his youngest son and approached his oldest, while the airport limo driver loaded his baggage into the awaiting car. 

“Everything is in order, then?  Cards, cash, phone numbers and such?”

“All of the above,” Ed said. 

“Call me if you need anything.  Even if you have to leave me a message, I’ll check it as soon as I can.”

“Okay.”

They stared at each other, unsure of how to proceed and having run out of time to try and figure it out as the driver stood patiently by an open door, waiting for his passenger.

Hohenheim settled on extending his left arm.

Ed accepted. 

“That’ll do, pig,” Al said solemnly, before bursting into a fit of laughter. 

Ed and Hohenheim, neither of whom had ever watched the movie _Babe_  to understand Al’s joke, stared at the jovial teenager in confusion. 

“He’s all yours,” Hohenheim said, patting Ed on the shoulder.

“Gee, thanks,” Ed replied with a smile. It was still awkward between them, but maybe they could work on that when Hohenheim got back.

He was surprised to find that he liked that idea very much.

*****

The two teens watched as the limo left the driveway.  They kept watching until it was an indistinguishable black speck in the distance.

“Well, that’s that,” Al said sadly.

“Come on,” Ed said.  “Let’s go have breakfast.”

“You can cook, right?”

“Uh...”

“Never mind,” Al said, taking the hint. “McDonald's it is.”

*****

As Roy suspected, the night was over entirely too soon.

Since he no longer had anything in the house that was of much interest to a six-year-old, they entertained themselves by coloring, which was more soothing than Roy would ever admit to another living soul.  They also talked.  And talked.  And talked some more.  He could have listened to her talk all night, and she almost did.

He had carried her upstairs and, after briefly debating and ultimately deciding against putting her in her old bedroom, laid her down in his bed, crawling in next to her and watching her sleep.  He memorized every detail of her beautiful face and tried to imagine it five years older.  Roy didn’t want to think about the fact that she would look like Gracia on the outside; not that the woman wasn’t attractive, but he would rather not have to associate the face of one he loved so much with one who hated him just as passionately.

He had finally fallen asleep but woke up as soon as he felt her stirring.  They ate cereal in the living room and watched cartoons, where Roy rediscovered his immense hatred of Spongebob Squarepants.  And now…

“Alright.  Hugs.” He picked her up and smothered her in his arms, taking one last opportunity to breathe her in. “I love you, Elysia,” he said, squeezing his eyes shut.    

“I love you too, Daddy Roy,” she responded. 

Roy wiped his eyes behind her back before putting her down. 

“Elysia,” Gracia said.  “Do you remember that book that you keep in your backpack with all the important phone numbers that you never want to forget?  Why don’t you put Daddy Roy’s phone numbers in there so that you’ll have them?”

Elysia’s face lit up.  “Oh yeah!”  She dropped to her knees and unzipped her backpack, pulling out everything short of the kitchen sink to find her phone book.

With cautious gratitude, Roy stared at Gracia, who shook her head while Elysia dug through her backpack.

“This isn’t for you,” she whispered.

“I know,” Roy whispered back.  “But thank you anyway.”

“Here!” the little girl said triumphantly. 

Roy carefully printed every number he could be reached at into Elysia’s book. 

“When can I call you, Daddy Roy?”

“Whenever you want to, Leesee.  I don’t care what time of day it is, you can always call me… as long as it’s okay with your mother.”

“One more!” she said, raising her arms. 

Roy picked her up again, hugging her tightly and swinging her in a circle.  Whatever made her happy.

*****

After they left, Roy stood outside, thinking about what he would do with the rest of his weekend. 

He nodded after a moment.  He knew _exactly_ what he wanted to do.

And now that he knew, he couldn’t do it soon enough. 

*****

“What do you guys want to do?” Russ asked.  He glanced at his watch; it was almost midnight.

“Eat,” Al suggested.

“You just ate like an hour ago,” Fletcher pointed out.

“So?” 

“Ed?” Russ called out to the teen, who was concentrating on a video game. 

Ed waited until his character was properly eaten by zombies before answering.  “I can make something.”

The three other boys exchanged horrified glances.

“Whatever," Ed said, mildly offended.  "Fine, we'll do takeout.  But we can’t do this every night, Al, okay? We'll be broke in a week if we do.” 

“Yes sir,” Al said with a grin.

They headed for the door. Ed waited patiently while the others tried to cram through it simultaneously. 

“Who the hell is that?” Russ asked.

“I don’t know,” Al answered.

“Nice car,” Fletcher chimed in.

_Nice car? It can't be..._

Ed pushed past the trio and walked out of the house with wobbly legs and a pounding heart. 

Then he smiled.

*****

“Ed?  Who is that?” Russ’ question fell on deaf ears.

“Hey, Russ?” Al started.

“Ed!” Russ yelled.

“Shut _up_ ,” Al said.

“What’s going on?” Fletcher spoke up.

“Let’s go back inside for a second,” Al said.

Russ looked out at Ed and his mystery visitor and then back at Al.  “Why?”

“Because I said so.  Come on.”

Al waited for Fletcher and Russ to go back into the house before stepping inside himself, smiling happily  at the couple before closing the door and leaving them to their much-deserved privacy.

*****

“Were you just going to stand out here all night until someone opened the door?”  Ed asked, stopping a few feet away from him.

“That was my ill-conceived plan, yes,” Roy said with a smirk, taking a step closer. 

“You’re early.” 

“I’m sorry. But not really.”

Roy cupped Ed’s face in his hands, their first contact in almost a month.  Ed placed his own hands over Roy’s, pressing them harder against his cheeks, needing, wanting, craving this man’s touch more than he realized until. Roy leaned over and kissed him, softly at first, until desperation got the better of him and he pushed into Ed's mouth with his tongue, and Ed returned the gesture, his enthusiasm more than making up for his inexperience. They fell back against Roy's car, kissing and grasping and feeling each other until Roy remembered they were likely being watched and pulled away while he was still able to stop. Right on cue, the curtains in Ed's living room window twitched noticeably.

“We should probably slow down before... things happen... right here in your driveway.”

Ed nodded in agreement.  "From the top?"  
  
Roy grinned.  "Sure."

*****

“Fletcher, if you peek out of that curtain one more time, I’m going to beat you with this,” Al said, brandishing a Guitar Hero guitar-shaped controller at him while still well on his way to five-starring a song. 

Fletcher glowered at his older brother since he was the one who put him up to it, unbeknownst to Al.

“You don’t care that Ed is outside making out with some man right in front of the house?” Russ asked.

“Nope.”  Al took his eyes away from the screen long enough to give Russ a questioning glance. “Do _you_?”

*****

They were still leaning against the car.  Ed’s head was buried in Roy's chest. Roy stroked Ed's back with both hands. 

Ed took a deep breath, inhaling the smell of him. This wasn't helping his hard-on. 

“Do you want to come in?” he mumbled into the man’s shirt.

“Yes,” Roy answered.  “But you’re going to have to give me a minute.”

“I could tell.”

“It feels like you need a minute yourself,” Roy added.

Ed considered this.  “Maybe even two,” he admitted.

“Come on,” Roy said, reluctantly stepping away from Ed and opening the door to his car. 

The young man’s eyes lit up.  “You’re letting me drive?” 

Roy smirked.  “I didn’t miss you _that_ much. Get in and scoot over. This way anyone who feels inclined to peep will know that the show is over.” 

Ed kissed Roy on the cheek before getting into the car and crawling over to the passenger seat. Roy got in behind him and closed the door.  Turning to Ed, he offered his upturned hand. Ed smiled and took it, twining their fingers, so much like the last day they were together. But unlike that last day, they could now do it freely. 

“What now?” Roy asked a few minutes later.

“Now I try not to think about how big the backseat is.”

“It is pretty big,” Roy agreed.

“Plenty of room for two people,” Ed pointed out.

Their eyes met.  
  
"I'll get your bag," Ed said, opening the passenger door.    
  
"Sounds good," Roy replied as he stepped out of the driver's side. 

*****

Ed slung the bag's padded strap over his shoulder and lifted the bag off the ground. It came to a rest against his shins. Just barely. 

“Here, I got it,” Roy said.  He kissed the scowling teen's forehead and took the bag for himself.   

They were at the door when Roy stopped. “Do you think Al will like me?” he asked, genuinely concerned. 

“Are you kidding?  He’s going to love you.” 

“You don’t know that.”

“Oh, please.  I know he’s going to love you because I love...” Ed’s mouth snapped shut.  Well, shit. He might as well finish the thought.  “… you.  I meant to say that differently,” he explained.  “I mean, I wanted it to be perfect and stuff.”

Roy dropped his bag and wrapped his arms around Ed’s waist.  “Try again.”

Ed gathered his composure. “I love you, Roy.”

“There. That was perfect. And stuff.” Roy kissed him.  “I love you too.” 

He tucked a lock of blond hair behind Ed’s ear and traced a finger down his cheek before picking his bag up.

Ed reached for the door but it was already swinging open. Al stood in the doorway with folded arms and regarded Roy with a cool, calm gaze.

“Roy, I presume?” he asked.

“... Yes.”

“Al--” Ed started.

Al raised a hand to his older brother, indicating that he should butt out. 

“I just have one question for you, Roy.”

Ed was suddenly quite worried. “Roy--" he tried again.

Now it was Roy's turn to cut him off.  Wasn’t anyone going to let him speak?

“Yes, Al?” Roy asked.

Al stepped outside and looked him up and down. “Can you cook?” he asked. 

“Yes, I can cook, Al. At least better than Ed.”

_“Hey!”_ Ed said.  It wasn’t his fault he couldn’t cook… or started the occasional fire.

Al dropped the facade and smiled. “Good. I'm starving.”

He grabbed Roy by the arm and dragged him into the house.  

Ed laughed and followed them inside, closing the door behind him. 


	17. Giving In

For the next two hours, Al not only coaxed Roy into showing off his culinary prowess but his video game skills as well. Roy enjoyed himself so much that he almost felt at home in the Elric house.  _Almost._

Al was, as Ed had predicted, a blast.  Roy adored the kid already, quirkiness and all.  And the Fletcher boy seemed alright, if a bit shy.

Then there was Russ, who seemed to be on a suicide mission to ruin everyone's fun.

The steely-eyed teen made no effort to hide his dislike of Roy, going so far as to make repeated references to the man's age and profession.  The only thing Roy had revealed to the nosy little prick was that he worked in education, and he was glad that both Ed and Al had the foresight not to disclose anything more than that.  It didn’t take a rocket scientist, or an alchemist, to ascertain that the kid harbored some serious affection towards Ed, and Roy’s presence was a hindrance to that.

“Thanks again for the meal, Mr. Mustang,” Russ said, standing by the door as he, Fletcher, and Al were poised to leave.  He was the most reluctant to go, preferring instead to cockblock the couple at every turn. 

“Roy,” Al corrected him. 

“For the hundredth time,” Ed muttered, visibly annoyed by his friend's behavior towards Roy.

“Oh, sorry,” Russ said with a large fake smile.  “I’m just used to respecting my elders.”

At least Fletcher had the decency to be embarrassed by his brother's behavior.  Poor kid.  Roy pitied just about anyone related to Russ.

“You’re quite welcome, Russell,” he said kindly.  “I’m glad a _boy_ such as yourself enjoyed it.”

Ed and Fletcher both suppressed their smiles unlike Al, who grinned openly at the dig. 

Russ glared daggers at Roy before sulking out of the house.  Fletcher stopped smiling long enough to speak.

“It was nice meeting you.  Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Fletcher.”  Once again, Roy was struck at the vast difference between the two siblings.

The young teen blushed and smiled before bolting out the door. Too cute.

“Alright kiddies,” Al said.  “I’m taking off.  And I probably won’t be back tonight so… you know…”

He gave the two men a suggestive wink.  And a smile.  And a nod. 

“Al,” Ed groaned.

“What?” Al asked innocently.  “I’m just saying, you’ll have the whole house to yourselves, and if I should happen to come home in the morning and find you both naked in bed, I won’t freak out. Okay, actually, I _totally_ expect to come home in the morning and find you both naked in bed but that’s beside the point.”

Roy rubbed a hand across his mouth to hide his smile, while Ed closed his eyes and blushed furiously. 

“Jeez, Al.”

“Alright, alright.  Goodnight!”  The happy-go-lucky teen gave them both a glowing smile before disappearing through the door.

Roy laughed as Ed, whose cheeks were still pink from embarrassment, locked the front door.

“He’s something else,” Roy said.

“He’s something, alright,” Ed said.  “I’m sorry.”

“Why?  Everyone should have an Al.”

Ed snorted laughter at Roy’s theory.  “I don’t think the planet could handle more than one.”

“You might be right,” Roy agreed.

They walked over to the couch and sat down on opposite ends, both of them taking careful measures not to look directly at the other.  Roy sighed and tapped his fingers on the arm of the couch while Ed bit his lip and stared directly into the space in front of him.    
  
Now that the others were gone, it wasn’t long at all before a different kind of tension slowly began to build in the air.  Ed curled his feet beneath him and tried not to think so hard about the fact that he was finally alone with Roy. Unfortunately, his body wasn’t taking the hint.  He recalled their earlier antics outside against Roy's car, and he folded his hands in his lap to hide what would soon be a rather noticeable swelling. 

“I’m sorry about Russ, too,” he said, trying to make small talk and ignore his body’s reaction to the man sitting beside him.  “He can be a real fucking jerk sometimes.”

“He likes you.”

Ed nodded and debated telling Roy about the groping incident. But no, not yet. Right now, there were more important matters to address. He wished that he had enough self-control to sit and talk to Roy like a civilized human being instead of blindly jumping him, and maybe he would. Later.

He slid across the couch and straddled Roy’s lap.  He shuddered as the man's hands fell onto his hips, gripping him tightly, and he was pleasantly surprised at what he felt waiting there for him, pressing urgently beneath him. 

“Roy,” whispered, wrapping his arms around the other man's neck and grinding down against him...  

*****

… and Roy didn’t think he would last very long if Ed insisted on doing that.

He meant to stop him and suggest that they slow down, but all of his good intentions were negated by the bulge in Ed’s jeans that rubbed frantically against his abdomen with increasing speed.  And so instead of obeying a direct, albeit muddled, order from his brain, Roy bucked his hips and rocked even harder against him.

Ed’s eyes grew wide and he let out a tortured moan. Roy kissed him thoroughly, running his tongue in and around Ed's mouth. He licked a wet trail down Ed's cheek and neck, and Ed groaned and thrust, losing himself to the sensation.  

Roy pulled up Ed’s shirt, revealing his incredibly chiseled chest.  Ed lifted his arms, just long enough to let Roy take off his shirt before clinging to him again.  Roy leaned forward and ran his mouth and tongue along Ed’s collarbone, taking in every inch of the flesh, slowly trailing down to his nipple.  He took it into his mouth and sucked on it, lapping at it with his tongue...

*****

… and Ed thought he was going to faint.

He pulled Roy closer, cradling the man's head and burrowing his face in black hair.  His moans intensified as he concentrated on Roy’s lips, kissing him, sucking him…

_Oh my God._

Ed released Roy’s head and fumbled with his zipper, but in his present state, he seemed to have forgotten the basic steps of pants removal.  Taking the lead, Roy unfastened Ed’s jeans and lowered the zipper, moving so slowly and deliberately that Ed thought he might go directly out of his mind with impatience. 

Cool air hit his crotch, causing him to tremble. He looked at Roy's downturned head and wondered how the man felt about what he saw. He really couldn’t help that he was so…

*****

_… wet.  God, he's so wet already._

Roy's cock throbbed at the sight of Ed's damp boxers. “You’re going to have to move,” he said.

“Huh?” Ed blinked innocently.

“Your jeans,” Roy clarified.  “Unless you plan to keep them on, you’re going to have to move.”

“Oh.  Okay.” 

But the teen didn’t move.  Roy bit back a smile as Ed tried to mentally calculate a way to shed the jeans without getting off of his lap. Determined to try, he leaned back and began working them down as much as possible. 

“A little help?” Ed asked after hitting the inevitable roadblock.

“You know it would be easier if you just stood up.”

“I don't want to.” 

“If you insist.”

The two men pulled and yanked on Ed's jeans, which was no easy task when one decided not to stand up.  Ed settled on raising his right leg and having Roy tug while he pulled his leg out, which seemed to work just fine… until Ed lost his balance on the final pull and tumbled backwards onto the floor.

*****

_“Owwwwwww!”_

Ed didn’t know whether to rub the back of his head, which had banged off the floor, or cover his face.  In the end, he decided on both, moaning in pain and embarrassment as he imagined how he must have looked lying on the ground, half out of his jeans, penis standing dutifully at attention through his damp boxers, red-faced, and with a possible concussion.

“… Are you okay?”

Through squinting eyes, Ed saw Roy peering down at him with concern and wisely concealed amusement. 

“I’m fine,” Ed said, blushing even harder.  “Go ahead and laugh.”

“I’m not laughing,” Roy said, proceeding to do just that. “Come on.” 

He offered Ed a hand. Ed took it and pulled him down to the floor. _Much_ better.

Roy propped himself up on one elbow.  “Are you really okay?” 

Ed nodded. He grabbed Roy’s shirt and yanked it over the man’s head before pulling him in for a long, deep kiss.  He turned onto his side and draped a leg across Roy’s waist, using his automail hand to hold the back of Roy’s head while he traced the fingers of his left hand down Roy’s cheek, his neck, running them along his chest, down to his stomach, and finally stopping at the waistline of his pants. Perhaps it was the bump to the head, but he was much more adept at unfastening Roy’s pants as opposed to his own, and he was able to do it in no time, with just one hand. He could feel the heat emanating from Roy, and he reached out to touch him...

*****

… and Roy hissed sharply, grabbing the teen’s wrist and knowing full well that if Ed touched him, he was going to come.  There was no way around it; he really was just that close.

Instead, he pushed Ed onto his back and knelt between his legs. He pulled Ed’s jeans down until his left leg was free and all that was left were his black boxers.  He raised his head and looked at Ed, his eyes asking for permission.  The teen nodded and closed his eyes, waiting.  Roy hooked his fingers into the waistband of Ed’s shorts and peeled them down.

*****

Ed heard a gasp and was unsure how to interpret it.  He was afraid to look, well aware of what the naked and erect sight of him must have looked like. He had always hated his body, and now there it was on full display.

Curiosity got the better of him when he heard a rustling sound. He opened his eyes in time to see Roy taking off the rest of his clothes. With that done, Roy hovered over him, his body tantalizingly close. Ed wasn’t exactly sure what Roy meant to do, although he had an idea. Either way, he didn’t care.  Never in his life did he want anything more than he did Roy’s body at that moment, in any way, shape, or form he could get it. 

Ed thought he might have fainted earlier when Roy sucked on his nipple. Now he thought he would surely die when the man slid  along Ed’s body until his hips were snug between Ed's legs, their cocks lined up and throbbing in unison. Ed opened his mouth to cry out and Roy sealed it with a kiss as he began thrusting against Ed, grinding their erections together. Ed wrapped his legs around Roy’s waist, arching his back and bucking his hips and hoping like hell that Roy was close because there was no way he was going to last, not when he could _feel him_ , hot and hard and wet, rubbing up against him.

He broke away from Roy’s kiss and began panting, loud and fast, his fingers digging into Roy's back and holding on for dear life as he felt himself slipping... falling...

“Roy… Roy… _Roy_ ,” was all he could manage before thrusting one last time, throwing his head back, and crying out when he came hard against Roy’s stomach. He felt something in his throat give and was reduced moans as Roy's cock swelled and spurted, making a mess of him. 

If there was a heaven, this was it.

*****

For minutes afterward, the lovers could only lie there, shuddering in each other’s arms as they came down from their high.  Roy finally managed to push himself off Ed and collapsed onto the floor next to him. He peered at him through heavy eyelids and, now that the lust had subsided, felt an almost frightening surge of love for the teen.  God, how he had missed every single thing about him, from his hair to his smile to cruel beauty of his automail and flesh to the warm glow of his eyes.  

Summoning up his strength, Roy tried to stand up, only to find himself being held back by Ed’s strong metal arm.

“Wait.”

“I’m just going to get a wet washcloth,” Roy told him

Ed shook his head.  “Not yet,” he said. "Stay with me."

Roy sat up against the couch and beckoned to Ed, who curled up between his legs.  He leaned his head against Roy’s chest and the older man embraced him, rubbing his back and trying not to get hard again.

After awhile, just as he started to suspect Ed had actually dozed off, the teen surprised him by getting up.    
  
Roy saw that he wasn't the only one becoming aroused again. 

“I need to take a shower,” Ed announced. 

“Okay,” Roy said.

Ed smiled slyly and held out his hand. 

“So do you.”

*****

“How’s your throat?”

Roy leaned forward and dipped his head into the stream of warm water that jetted from the shower nozzle as he stood behind Ed, lazily running his hands along the young man’s shoulders.  He was especially fascinated with the area where Ed’s automail was attached and had spent minutes running first his fingers, then his mouth and tongue along the jagged flesh, prompting a series of moans from the teen and making him even harder than he already was.  It was such a far cry from the quiet, self-loathing outcast that Roy had first encountered. 

“Better,” Ed replied in a slightly raspy voice that Roy found extremely sexy. 

“Good.”  Roy stepped closer, pressing himself into Ed’s back.  He wrapped his left arm around Ed’s waist and used his right hand to brush Ed’s long hair to the side.  He then bent down and ran his tongue along Ed’s ear and down his neck where he began gently biting and sucking at the teen's sensitive skin.

Ed closed his eyes and tilted his neck further, giving Roy more access.  He reached up and around, grabbing the back of Roy’s head, urging him on and grinding against the erection pressed against him. He vaguely wished he was taller so Roy would be able to rub up against a… more sensitive area.  But for now he would take what he could get. 

Roy moaned into Ed’s neck, a low, throaty sound that Ed found extremely sexy.  He snaked his right arm around Ed’s chest and began to caress his nipple, and then he pinched it, sending a jolt through the younger man’s body.  His left hand moved from Ed's waist to his groin, grabbing him by the cock. 

Ed was torn between grinding and thrusting.  He decided to do both, pushing his hips forward and sliding through Roy’s fist, then backward, trapping Roy's cock between them. He kept going, steadily melting under Roy’s touch and already closer to coming than he cared to be.  Ed knew what he wanted, and he wanted it badly. He just didn’t know if he wanted Roy to stop long enough for them to make it to his room.  Not that he was opposed to sex in the shower, not at all.  He just wanted their first time to be in a bed.  Call him old fashioned.

Ed turned around.  He ran his left hand down Roy’s chest and took him into his hand. He started stroking, delighting in the way Roy sucked in his breath and momentarily forgetting his own pleasure.  He memorized every inch, every vein, and the way it throbbed against his palm as if it had a heartbeat of its own.  He thought back to how they had rubbed up against each other in the living room and Ed once again wished he was taller so that it would have been physically possible to do it while standing.   

“Edward,” Roy whispered shakily.  “Edward… wait.”

But instead of waiting, Ed decided to take a page out of Roy’s book and sucked on the older man’s nipples.  He wasn’t exactly sure what he was doing, but whatever he was doing must have worked because Roy's breathing became ragged and his entire body quivered.

“Ed--” was all he could say before grunting and coming all over Ed’s hand. 

Ed held on until he went soft.  He studied Roy's face and was thrilled with the pleasure he saw there, pleasure he had given.  The one thing he wanted more than to be touched by Roy was this, to be the one to touch him, make him cry out, make him come.  He gave Roy one last squeeze before letting him go and rinsing his hand off in the flow of the shower.

After recovering, Roy pushed the teen back against the far wall of the shower and kissed him. Ed braced himself, assuming Roy was about to return the favor. But when Roy got down on his knees, Ed realized that he had no intention of using his hands. 

“Shit!” he cried out as he felt his cock slide between Roy's lips.  His grabbed two handfuls of black hair and held on for dear life.  _“Oh shit!”_

Ed's mind ruptured as Roy took in the full length of him before pulling back, teasing the tip of his cock with his tongue, and repeating the process again and again. Over and over. He tried to tell him to wait but all that came out was a mixture of moans and babbling. He tried to move but with his back against the wall and Roy devouring him from the front, there was little he could do to escape. 

He came with a shout, plunging deep into Roy's mouth and dimly aware that the man was swallowing around him. His knees buckled, and Roy stood up just in time to hold him steady and keep him from falling down. Ed draped his arms around Roy's shoulders and leaned against him, trusting him for support.

“Holy shit,” he murmured.

“Indeed,” Roy agreed, smiling.

He drew Ed into a lingering kiss under a steady blast of warm water.


	18. Charmed Life

It was enough.

To be lying there in Roy’s arms, with his left arm resting across the older man’s chest as it rose and fell evenly. Smelling him. Feeling him. Yes, it was enough.

Except Ed was wide awake.  And hard. _Really_ hard.

He smiled at Roy's sleeping face. He was happier than he had ever been in almost eighteen years of short, miserable living.

It was just past four in the morning according to the digital clock that gave off an alien green glow. Unfortunately, Ed wasn’t the least bit tired due to his present state of emergency. He scooted closer to Roy and laid his head on the dozing man’s chest, choking back a moan as his erection grazed Roy’s thigh.  Feeling ever the pervert, he risked another thrust against the Roy's leg and this time he _did_ moan softly, even though he also felt like a selfish twat.  Roy had driven an entire day just to see him, and had already gotten him off twice.  Yet still, there he was, wanting even more.  It was shameless. 

“Were you planning on humping my leg all night?”

Mortified, Ed sat up.  “I-I wasn’t humping it!” he insisted. “I was just… getting…”

“Off?”

“Comfortable.”  

“You’re cute when you’re horny,” Roy informed him. He took Ed's hand and guided it downward.  Apparently Ed wasn't the only one who'd had trouble sleeping. 

“We could have done something about that,” Ed told him.

“I didn't drive all this way _just_ for that." 

“I know.”  Ed pulled off his shirt and tugged on Roy’s, encouraging him to do the same.  He quickly shrugged out of his shorts and moved down the bed, throwing off the comforter and positioning himself between Roy’s legs.  He yanked down Roy’s shorts and grabbed him by the shaft.

“You don’t have to do that,” Roy whispered. 

Ed knew that too.  But he wanted to.  He had wanted to since the day Roy stopped him back at his house.  Even though the room was dark, he closed his eyes, pushing away the awful memory of the last time he’d done something like this and concentrating on Roy, in his hand…

… and now in his mouth.  He knew he wouldn’t be able to take it all without gagging, but judging by the man’s reaction, that wouldn’t be a problem.  Ed began moving his mouth up and down the length of him, trying to repeat everything Roy did to him earlier, and stroking the rest of him. After a while, he stopped. 

“Roy, I want you to...”

Ed was at a loss for words.  _Fuck_ was technically correct, he supposed, but much too vulgar.  What he wanted was more than that. 

What he wanted, more than anything, was for Roy to wash away all of the horror inflicted onto his body over the span of his years with Izumi and Sig.  If he were to die tonight, he wanted to be able to say that it was Roy Mustang, and no one else, who had last kissed him, held him, touched him, and been inside of him. 

But in the end, all he could do was say, “Please.”

“Are you sure?” Roy asked.

Ed nodded.  “I'm positive.”  

Roy sat up, bringing Ed in for a kiss.  He leaned over the edge of the bed and began rummaging through his overnight bag. When he sat back up, Ed saw him holding a small bottle with a flip cap and started laughing.

“Do you always travel with lube?”

Roy grinned.  “It was purely an automotive precaution.”

“Riiiiight.  Because you never know when your engine might dry up.” 

“It’s a mechanic’s best friend.”

“I know a mechanic. I'll have to ask her if that's true.”

Ed positioned himself on Roy's lap.  He could feel the hardness and heat of the man's erection, only now without the barrier of clothing.   As he moved in for a kiss, he heard Roy pop open the lube. Moments later, a hand closed around him and gave him a few languid strokes. Fingers reached beneath him, searching... then finding... then rubbing... then entering. Ed arched his back and rocked in Roy's lap as slick digits invaded his body, carefully working him open. After that, Roy pulled out his fingers and rubbed more lube on his cock.

Ed gripped Roy's shoulders and lowered himself slowly, stopping every so often to adjust to the size of him, which was considerably larger than fingers, and to catch his breath.  It didn’t hurt… much.  But just the thought of Roy, _his_ Roy, inside of him was enough to outweigh any pain.

“Are you okay?” Roy asked.

Ed nodded. He started riding Roy, hugging him tightly and burying his face in the older man’s neck.  His initial discomfort soon gave way to ecstasy as each thrust caused the tip of the man’s penis to touch the sweet spot inside of him. 

“Fuck,” he exclaimed softly, reaching between their abdomens and grabbing his cock. Shortly after, he cried out into Roy’s neck in a voice he didn’t recognize as his own as his orgasm ripped through him. Throughout it all, he never missed a pump of the hips, and he kept at it until Roy came, his teeth clamped down on Ed's shoulder and his fingers gripping hard enough to bruise. 

They clung to each other for a few minutes.  Finally, Ed raised his head and looked at Roy.

“You don’t have any tattoos.”

Roy frowned in confusion.  “Tattoos?  What are you talking about?”

“Mr. Havoc said you had tattoos.”

“Jean?  When did you talk to him?”

“He was here a little over a week ago and he said... What’s wrong?”

“Sick, my ass,” Roy growled.  “I’ll kill him.”

Ed kissed him, effectively blotting out the man’s anger.  “Don’t kill him,” he said.  “We wouldn’t be here right now if it wasn’t for him.”

“Don’t remind me,” Roy grumbled. 

“Come on,” Ed said.  “Before we stick to the bed.”

They got up and went into the bathroom for their second shower of the night.

*****

Five hours later, Al tiptoed into the house.  He had to practically chase Russ out of the driveway to prevent him from coming inside.

He was seriously beginning to suspect that Russ had a crush on his brother. 

He stood in the foyer and yawned, deciding that he couldn’t possibly go back to bed on an empty stomach.  Well, _near_ empty. They had stopped for breakfast after all. But that was half an hour ago. Almost a lifetime.

*****

Roy sat at the kitchen table, sipping a cup of black coffee.  He was still tired, but his body rarely allowed him to sleep in, even when he could. 

“I can’t help but notice you’re not naked in bed,” a voice behind him said.

Roy smiled into his cup. “I’m sorry.” 

“It's okay,” Al said. He walked over to a cupboard and pulled out a large, clear glass mixing bowl.  “I assume you were naked at some point last night, so that’ll do.”

Roy almost choked on his coffee. 

After recovering, he watched in amazement as the teenager proceeded to pour the largest bowl of cereal known to man.  He noticed the boy’s hair was slightly long in the back and, judging from the family photos that decorated the living room, wondered if he was growing it long to match Ed’s. 

“How was your night?” he asked as Al poured the milk into the bowl and grabbed a large spoon.

“Eh.  We watched movies and played video games.” Al plopped down into the chair across from Roy and dug into the bowl.  “But I did get to chat with Martel online for awhile, so that was cool.”

“Who’s Martel?”

Al’s eyes lit up.  “She’s the girl I like.  She’s hot.  But not just that, she’s also really nice. I don’t know if she likes me or not.  I think she does, but I don’t know for sure.”

“I don’t think a girl would chat with anyone in the middle of the night if she didn’t like them.” 

“You think?”

Roy nodded.  “I think.”

Al wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.  The cereal was already half gone; a hearty appetite was definitely an Elric trait. 

“Do you think that maybe sometime… when you come back…” 

“Double date?” Roy asked.

Al nodded eagerly. Would that every high school student be so sweet. It would make Roy's job so much easier.

“I’d like that.”

“Cool,” Al said.  “And she’s totally into yaoi, so she wouldn’t have a problem with you and Ed at all.”

Roy laughed.  “Well, I’m glad for that.”

“When are you leaving?”  The boy turned the bowl up to his mouth, finishing off the milk.

“Tomorrow morning.”

“We should do something tonight, just the three of us.  Unless you already have plans with Ed.”

“Nope, no plans,” Roy said, finishing off his coffee.  He walked over to the pot to pour another cup, grabbing Al’s bowl and placing it in the sink along the way.  “What would you like to do?”

Al thought for a moment.  “I don’t know.  Anything, really.”

“Well, we can figure it out later.” Roy leaned against the sink and sipped from his cup.  “After Edward gets up we can all decide.”

Al glanced at the kitchen clock.  “He’s still asleep, huh?  Man, you must have really wore him out.”

That time, Roy _did_ choke.

*****

They decided on miniature golf.  Ed cheated.  Horribly.

Afterwards, they took in a movie.  As payback for his putt-putt cheating, Al and Roy decided on a bloody and gruesome horror flick that had Ed jumping and cringing for almost two full hours. 

Later, in lieu of dining out, the men headed home and cooked.  Rather, Al and Roy cooked.  Ed was banished to the living room. 

The three of them sat up playing board games and talking until midnight, during which time Ed and Roy learned the Life Story of Martel. 

The lovers bid Al goodnight and headed into Ed’s bedroom.  Roy quietly packed his things while Ed set the alarm for six-thirty.  They crawled into bed and fell into each other’s arms as if they’d been doing so for years instead of just two nights. 

“I love you, Ed,” Roy said, nuzzling the teen’s forehead with his chin. 

“I love you,” Ed responded as Roy pulled him even closer.

Everything was perfect. Finally.

But it remained to be seen if that perfection would last past tomorrow:

The first day of school.

*****

Russ sat up in his bed.  He was wide awake.

And pissed off.

For the past two nights, he had been unable to sleep, seething with anger and jealousy over what was happening between Ed and that man.  At least tonight Al was home, and hopefully they’d had the decency not to fuck with him in the house. 

His mind concocted a thousand different scenarios… and positions… and four times now, between last night and tonight, he had jerked himself off thinking about the two of them. 

And hating it. 

Hating _him_.  Roy Fucking Mustang. 

He should have just pushed Ed down and taken advantage of him that night.  Surely he would have come around once Russ started working his magic on him.  He’d brought many a grown men to their knees, begging for more. 

As was the case with most privileged brats who always got exactly what they wanted, Russ was incensed at the way things were going with Ed. Or not going, as it were.

What the hell did Ed want with that old man when Russ was right there in his face? He knew that with his looks, he was everyone’s ideal.  Not only was he hot, but he was nice, goddammit.  Respectful.  Helpful.  Fucking humble.

Russ wanted Ed.  Because it was his will.  But he was also fascinated with the short teenager.  Fascinated by his hair, his metal limbs, his quiet nature, and his eyes.  He wanted to see those eyes staring into his as he fucked him.  He wanted to see that mouth cry out in pleasure.  He wanted to know what automail felt like wrapped around his body… and not just kicking him in the chest.  He wanted to own him.  To keep him and treasure him as his very own.  At least until he decided to move on.

Was that too much to ask?

Tomorrow was Ed’s first day at school.  Russ knew that he was going to be a hit with everyone.  He needed to act fast before he found himself with more obstacles besides the creepy old pervert who…

… _I work in education_ …

Russ frowned.  There were dozens of jobs in education; the man could've been a janitor for all Russ knew. 

Or a teacher. Roy Mustang was most likely a teacher. 

Whoa. What a scandal it would be if people found out…

Russ shook his head.  He didn’t want to think like that.  Not yet.

Even he had his _principles._

 


	19. Day One

Al was starving. Then again, he was almost _always_ starving.

_I swear, Alphonse, your stomach is one gigantic black hole._

He smiled in the darkness as he remembered his mother’s words. He missed her so much.

The hungry teen turned on the bedside lamp and got up. He had to get ready for school in three hours, but there was no way he could go back to sleep on an empty stomach.

A low grumbling rose from his midsection in agreement.

He hastily threw on the clothes he wore yesterday, which were pooled at the edge of the bed.  He grabbed a pair of sneakers and sat down to put them on, noting the way his hair brushed against his ears and neck.  It wasn’t long enough to hang down his back yet, but in a few months it would be. It probably wouldn't turn out as nice as Ed's hair. With Al's luck, he'd probably end up with a mullet.

He smiled again.  He felt guilty for being so happy with everything that had happened over the past two weeks, but he was.  _Very_ happy.

Ed was everything Al had ever wanted in a brother. He was just… everything.  

He felt an unfamiliar twinge of jealousy at having to share Ed with the entire student body later today.  Al had grown accustomed to having his brother all to himself, all the time.  He thought about the numerous times Russ had refused to include Fletcher in their plans and felt a stab of worry; the idea of Ed being too cool to be bothered with his little underclassman brother bothered him a great deal. 

He stood up and grabbed the car keys off the dresser, making a mental note to have the dent in the passenger side door fixed before Hohenheim got back and hoping Ed didn’t make too big a deal about it.  Honestly, his brother acted like he was a bad driver or something.

Al stepped out of his room and quietly closed the door.  As he walked down the hallway, he reached out and let his hand drag lightly across the door to his brother’s room, where Ed and Roy were sleeping peacefully.

Either that or they were having the quietest sex on earth.

He really liked Roy.  And he wasn’t the least bit creeped out by the age difference, or the fact that they were two guys.  There he was, after all, a dorky and sheltered rich kid madly in love with an older woman (well, older _teenager_ ) from the wrong side of the tracks that all the guys in school called “The Snake” for some unknown reason.  But whatever.  Martel was nothing but beautiful to him and that was all that mattered.

Al admittedly didn’t know much for his sixteen years of limited life experience, but what he _did_ know was that love just didn’t seem to care who it joined together.  

That, and he was so hungry he was going to start gnawing on his own arm if he didn't get to Mickey D's soon.

Egg McMuffins. Three of them. No, four.  Yeah.  That should do the trick.  

His stomach gurgled loudly in anticipation.

Al hurried to the car and backed out of the driveway, barely missing Roy’s car.

*****

“Al, look out!”

Ed said a silent prayer as his little brother swerved to avoid a dog that had sauntered into the middle of the street.  He overcompensated and nearly ended up on the sidewalk where he came very close to earning points for bumping off two small, unsuspecting schoolchildren.

“I saw it, I saw it!  Jeez, settle down, Ed.”

_The hell you did,_ Ed thought, hoping he wouldn’t become an accessory to vehicular manslaughter before first period.  He leaned back and cast a sidelong glance at Al, instantly forgiving him.  Given the mood he was in, he would've forgiven just about anything. 

Seeing Roy off at the crack of dawn had been most bittersweet; Ed already missed him fiercely, but he was still riding high on sheer joy.  He smiled and found himself thinking about the casual way “Ed” had rolled off of Roy’s lips.  He found it much to his liking, although he hoped the man wouldn’t abandon “Edward” altogether.  For some reason, Ed loved the way Roy said it.  But then again, the truth of the matter was that Ed loved anything that came out of Roy's mouth. 

_Or anything he does with his mouth_ , his mind added, reflecting back to their night of lovemaking.  A small shiver went up his back as he remembered the way the older man's tongue had--  
  
Ed shook his head and reluctantly pushed the images of Roy out of his mind.  The last thing he needed was to walk into his first class on his first day of school with a boner.

“Are you nervous?” Al asked.

“Nope,” Ed replied. 

The teen smiled cheerfully.  “Well, I guess getting laid does have a calming effect.”

Ed rolled his eyes and grinned.  “Good grief, Al.”

“I just want you to know that I’m really happy for you,” Al said, turning to look at his older brother.  “I mean, from everything you said about Roy, he sounded great to begin with--”

“Um, Al?”  Ed started, staring cautiously at the road ahead.

“--but he’s even cooler in person!  I can’t want to see him again--”

“Al?”

“--and did he tell you?  He said he’d even be willing to double with me and Martel--”

“Al!”

“--if it’s okay with you, of course--”

_“Al, look out!!!”_

Al turned back to the road in time to see a car approaching them head on.  He veered into the correct lane just as it passed, honking angrily. 

“Oops.”  He chuckled.  “My bad.”

Ed wasn't the praying kind, but he made an exception just this once to request that he make it to school in one piece.

*****

The minute he stepped out of the car he could feel the eyes of every student in the parking lot fall upon him.  Ed could feel their curiosity, which was only normal considering the automail.   But it didn't feel like a malicious kind of curiosity at all.

“You ready?”  Al asked.

“Yeah,” Ed tentatively replied.  Now that they had arrived, he was beginning to feel the first twinges of nervousness.  
  
Al smiled reassuringly.  “Everyone’s gonna love you.  And anyone who doesn’t will have to deal with me.”

Ed laughed, immediately put at ease by his brother's declaration.

Only Al could make threats of physical violence seem so cute. 

*****  
  
“Hi Ed!”

“There’s an empty seat here.”

“You can sit here if you want.”

“Yo, Edward!”

He stood in the middle of the cafeteria with a tray in his hands, watching helplessly as various tables vied for his company. 

It was all so surreal to him; something like this never would have happened at any of his old schools.  At his last school, he had acquired the nickname Tin Man before the end of first period.  Here, it was a phone number, placed ever so casually on his desk by a nice-looking girl with two-toned hair.

“Hey Ed!”

Ed looked in the direction of the familiar voice and saw Russ, Al, and Fletcher sitting at a table to themselves.  Russ called to him again and waved him over.

“Hey guys,” Ed said, sitting down next to his brother. 

“How’s it going?” Al asked.

“Alright.”

“Alright, my ass.  You’re like the most popular guy in school already,” Russ said.

Ed shrugged.  He was still quite irritated with Russ for the way he had acted towards Roy. 

“So how many people have asked to see it?” Al asked through a mouthful of something that was supposed to pass as a chicken sandwich. 

“I lost count after second period.  It’s kind of hard not to feel like a freakshow,” Ed said, poking at his tray.  Better school?  Yes.  Same shitty food?  Absolutely.

“No one thinks you’re freak,” Fletcher said kindly.  “Your automail’s just cool, is all.”

Ed concluded that either Fletcher or Russ were adopted. No way they shared the same DNA.

“Thanks, Fletcher.”

“Welcome.”

Russ slyly regarded his brother.  “Anyway,” he said.  “We have Calculus next, right?”

Ed finished off a container of juice and opened another one.  “Uh, yeah.”

Al grinned.  “Hey Fletcher, maybe Ed can put in a good word with the Hawk for you.”

Fletcher blushed.  “Shut up, Al.”

“The Hawk?” Ed asked.

Russ spoke up.  “Fletcher has a crush on Ms. Hawkeye, the teacher.”

“I do not,” he insisted, although his face easily gave him away.

“Why is she called the Hawk?” Ed inquired.

“Because she's scary as hell,” Al said, prompting a collective grin from the table. 

“But she’s really pretty though, “ Fletcher added.

“If you’re into that kind of thing,” Russ muttered. 

“Hi guys.”

Ed looked up.  It was the girl who had given him her number earlier that day. 

“Hi Rose,” Fletcher said.

“See you later, Ed,” Rose said, making a show of walking by the table.  Ed watched her strut by, chewing on a bite of his (chicken?) sandwich, unsure of what to make of her.   

“Boy, are you going to break a lot of hearts when they find out you like dick,” Russ observed. 

Al spoke up.  “Are you kidding?  They’re gonna love him even more!”

*****

“What are you doing tonight?” Russ asked Ed after class while escorting him to his next one.

“Homework.”

“Need help?”

“Nope,” Ed said, awkwardly waving to a group of students who acknowledged him as he walked by.

“Look, Ed,” Russ began.  “I’m really sorry about the way I acted the other night.  It’s just that I like you, you know.  As a friend, I mean.  And I hear things all the time about older guys taking advantage of younger guys.  I just don’t want to see that happen to you.”

“That's not going to happen, Russ,” Ed said.  "It isn't like that with Roy."

“Well, I’ll take your word for it.  Hey, why don’t you let me make it up to you?  Do you want to go phone shopping after school?”

Ed picked at his bag as they weaved through the students.  “I don’t know…”

“Come on.  I owe you a phone.  Plus you’re really going to need one if you keep getting numbers left and right.”

After a moment of inner debate, Ed decided to give him the benefit of the doubt.  Again. “Sure. Do you mind if Al comes with us?”

“If he wants to.”

“You should bring Fletcher too.  We can all do something after.”

“... Yeah, I’ll do that.”

The two boys stopped in front of Ed’s next class. Russ looked like he was gearing up to say something that Ed didn't want to hear.

“Sounds good.  See ya.”  He darted into the classroom before Russ had a chance to open his mouth.

*****

_So did you get laid or what?_

Roy stared at the text message on his cell phone and sighed.  Leave it to Jean...

He slowly typed a reply, carefully minding the road ahead.

*****

_Fuck off._

Jean took Roy’s eloquent response as a yes. 

“Asshole,” he whispered with a smirk. 

“I’m sorry?”

Jean looked up into the wide, childlike eyes of Kain Fuery. “Huh?”

“D-Did you call me an asshole?”

“What?  Oh. No.  I wasn’t talking to you.”

Kain Fuery, whose name, Jean decided, was _way_ too badass for such a fragile-looking boy-man, smiled in relief.  “Thank goodness,” he said.  “It’s bad enough I have to hear that all day.”

Jean frowned.  “Who’s calling you an asshole all day?”

Instead of speaking, the teacher blushed and looked away.

“Fuery,” Jean said sternly.  “You can’t go around taking shit from these kids. They’ll walk all over you.”

“I know, but…”

Jean smiled. If Roy had been there to see that smile, he would have sent the innocent teacher running the other way.  Fast. 

“Look,” he said, placing a hand on Fuery's shoulder.  “You’ve got to put them in their place or else you’re screwed.   Why don’t you meet me after school?  I’ll give you a few pointers.”

“I don’t know,” Fuery said shyly.  “Mr. Mustang already tried.”

“Mr. Mustang is a pussy,” Jean shot back.   “Come on.  Meet me.” The gym teacher gently squeezed the man's shoulder. 

“O-Okay,” Fuery said.  “Thank you, Mr. Havoc.”

“Call me Jean.” 

“Jean.  Thank you.”

“No problem.” Jean winked before walking away.

Fuery watched him go, completely clueless as to what he had just gotten himself into.

*****

Roy collapsed onto the sofa, exhausted.  His ass hurt from driving an entire day and he felt like he could sleep forever, despite having to be up early the next day for work.

But it was worth it.  A thousand times over.  He would do it everyday if he could, just to see Ed. 

As sleep began to sneak up on him, his mind wandered, contemplating their arrangement. 

What, exactly, _was_ the arrangement? 

Was this now going to be a routine weekend event?

Wouldn’t it just be easier if…

An image of the “For Sale” sign perched on his well-manicured lawn popped into his mind. 

The ringing of his phone snapped him out of it.  He reached out and grabbed it, not bothering to sit up.

“Hello?”

_“Hi.”_

“Hey.  How was day one?”

_“It was alright."_

“Any problems?”

_“No.  Everyone was okay with me.”_

“Good.”  Roy pulled the phone away from his ear long enough to glance at his caller ID.  “Did you get a new cell phone?”

_“Yeah._ _Russ bought me a new one this afternoon. I decided to get a new number to go with it.”_

Roy desperately wanted Ed to have as many friends as possible. He deserved that much. But if that pompous, arrogant, cocky little shit tried anything funny…

“That’s nice of him,” he said.

_“Nice, hell.  He owed me one.  It’s kinda cool, but it has a lot of features I can’t figure out.”_

“You will,” Roy promised. 

_“Hey, Roy?”_

“Yeah?”

_“When will I see you again?”_

Roy smiled.  He thought about telling Ed that he had inadvertently named one of his favorite songs, but he didn't think the teen would have a clue what he was talking about. “Next weekend, if that’s okay with you.”

_“Of course it’s okay.  I just wish…”_

Roy heard him sigh softly.  “What do you wish, Edward?”

_“… I wish that you didn't have to leave.”_

*****

After they finished talking, Ed sat on his bed, cradling his new phone in his hands. 

Thinking about his words to Roy, he blushed and admonished himself.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid._

It wasn't like the man was going to give up his job and house to move there...

*****

Roy still hadn’t moved from the sofa; his bedroom felt miles away.  He resigned himself to crashing on the couch for the night. 

He grabbed his cell phone to set the alarm and noticed an awaiting text message:

_Kain Fuery is hung like a horse!_

Roy blinked at the screen. Then he laughed. Exhausted and drunk with happiness, he laughed until his sides ached and tears sprung in his eyes. 

“Hung like a horse, huh?” he mused, laughing some more. 

After a few minutes of trying to wrap his mind around Kain Fuery’s genital attributes, he finally fell asleep,  where he dreamt of Ed, Jean, and bespectacled horses. 

*****

A very pissed off Russ stared at the closed door to Ed’s bedroom. 

He was in there, talking to Roy.

The afternoon and evening had not gone how he’d hoped thanks to Al and Fletcher's interference.  It was a setback he could have lived with.  And he felt confident that he could handle the meddling students competing for Ed’s attention and affection. The girls were easy enough.  Russ had the advantage of having a cock. And the guys?  Most of them were straight and probably just wanted to hang out with Ed.  As for the ones who were into him  _that_ way, none of them could hold a candle to Russ. 

But then there was Roy. Stupid fucking Roy.

It seemed that drastic measures were in order, after all. 

 


	20. Confessions

“So?” Jean asked impatiently.

“So what?” Roy stared at a pile of papers in front of him and not giving his ex the satisfaction of eye contact.

“Did you?” 

“I did a lot of things this weekend, Jean,” Roy said, crossing his arms across his chest and finally acknowledging the nosy gym teacher. “I’m actually much more interested in what you were up to. Kain Fuery? _Really?_ ”

Jean smirked and leaned back in his chair, propping his feet up on Roy’s desk. “What can I say? The guy’s got a certain charm outside of the classroom.”

Roy grabbed Jean by the sneakers and pushed his feet off the desk. “Right. And having a ten inch cock doesn’t hurt, does it?”

“A little,” Jean muttered coyly, taking a sudden interest in the plaques hanging on the wall behind Roy.

Roy’s eyes grew wide as the truth of Jean’s reply sunk in. “Get the fuck out of here.”  

“What?” Jean asked innocently.

“Don’t 'what' me. You...” Remembering their surroundings, Roy cleared his throat and lowered his voice. “You bottomed for Kain Fuery?”

“I said no such thing,” Jean said. The twinkle in his eyes belied his solemn voice.

“This is unbelievable. Especially coming from Jean ‘No One’s Sticking Anything Up My Ass’ Havoc.”

Jean narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Are you jealous? You know, since we never switched things up…”

Roy laughed sharply. “I'm _hardly_ jealous. Just… whatever you do, don’t string the poor bastard along. He doesn’t seem like the type who understands the concept of a one night stand.”

“Maybe it isn’t,” Jean said with a shrug. 

“Is that so?”

“Who knows?”

Roy could only shake his head. This was entirely too much to process so early in the morning. “You can hardly commit to your hair, Jean. God knows you couldn’t commit to me.”

“Why does that matter?” Jean countered defensively. “I was just a replacement for Maes anyway, right?” 

An uncomfortable silence filled the room as the two men regarded each other across the large desk. After a moment, Jean stood up and turned to leave.

“Fuck it,” he said under his breath, walking to the door.

“Jean.”

Jean stopped at the door without turning around. “What?”

Roy stared at the man’s back. “I tried, you know,” he said softly. “I really did.”

“I know you did, Roy,” Jean replied with a sigh. “Say hi to the kid for me.” 

He walked out of Roy’s office as the first bell of the day sounded over the loudspeaker, leaving the principal to stare thoughtfully at the closed door.

Until that moment, Roy had never stopped to consider whether or not Jean had actually had real feelings for him. The man barely seemed capable of _any_ emotion or action that wasn’t to his own advantage. But yet… just now...

Roy had finally achieved a closure of sorts with Maes’ death so that he could move forward in his relationship with Ed. Maybe some sort of closure with Jean was in order too?

Before Roy could contemplate further, a distraught teacher’s assistant brought him his first victim of the day, a feisty freshman with a penchant for dropping the F-bomb. 

“Get your fucking hands off me, bitch!” the young boy yelled at the woman. 

Well, then.

Roy stood up and set his gaze on stern, fully prepared to dispense with some classic Principal Mustang justice.

The kid never stood a chance.

*****

Ed sat quietly at his desk, waiting for the rest of the first period class to arrive. Even though it was a habit created out of a desire to escape his bullies, he had always enjoyed the peaceful moments to himself before the chaos of class began. 

It was a moment not unlike this one, when he thought he had been alone, that Roy had first spoken to him. The day that changed everything.

Thinking about that day and the long, strange, wonderful journey that resulted from it, Ed smiled.

“Alright, ‘fess up. Who is she?”

Ed found Rose standing in the doorway and watching at him. 

“Huh?”

She sauntered over to him and seated herself at the desk in front of his, turning around and giving him the sort of look that Ed could only assume most guys wanted to see. But he wasn’t most guys.

“You had the cutest, goofiest little smile on your face just now. You must be thinking about someone. The girl you left behind, maybe?”

_Here we go_ , Ed thought. 

“No,” he said. “There’s no girl.”

“Aw,” she said, sounding anything but sorry. “It’s hard to believe that they weren’t lining up to be with you.”

Ed laughed at the ludicrous sentiment.  “Well...”

Rose inched closer to him as students started filtering into the classroom. “Are you doing anything after school today?”

“I don’t think so,” Ed said, trying to figure out how to break the news to her.

“Do you want to grab something to eat?”

“Uh… sure. I have to check with my brother first, though.”

Rose playfully nudged Ed’s arm, her hand lingering for entirely too long. “He’s not your dad, Ed. Do you really have to ask him if you can go out with me?”

Ed pulled his arm back, out of her reach. “No, it’s not that. We’re just going out as friends, right?”

“Of course, silly,” she said, smiling again in that boys-really-like-it-when-I-do-this way. “Although I’m all for playing everything by ear,” she added. 

“I’m not single,” Ed said bluntly. 

“But... you just said you didn’t have a girlfriend.”

“I don’t.”

“Then what do you… oh.” Rose paused, realizing the truth behind Ed’s words. “ _Oh_ ,” she said again. “You’re gay?”

“No. Well, I don’t know. I never thought about it like that. It’s just him.” 

“Wow. Lucky guy.”

“That would be me,” Ed corrected her. 

“I doubt that,” she said with genuine affection. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone.”

“Thanks.” Ed honestly didn’t care if anyone knew he was in love with a man, but neither did he want to advertise it. His automail had already turned him into enough of a walking billboard and the attention was a bit overwhelming to him. 

Rose stood up. “Well, I better get to my seat. I’ll meet up with you after school.”

“Okay,” Ed agreed. “See you then.”

*****

Unable to resist, Rose texted her best friend about Ed’s apparent sexual preference.

During the lunch period, Ed couldn’t help but notice that every female in sight was staring at him.

By the end of the school day, the entire student body knew. 

*****

“Hey Boss, I’m outta here.”

“Goddammit Jean, you know I hate it when you call me that.”

“Why do you think I do it? Think you would have caught on by now.”

Roy looked up from the mountain of papers on his desk and gazed coolly at Jean, who stood smirking in his doorway. “Asshole,” he muttered.

“So I’ve been told,” Jean said. “How late are you working?”

Roy shrugged. “Not sure. I’m pretty backed up because--”

“Because you were off having all kinds of illicit sex. The hottest kind of sex, might I add.”

“Pervert.” 

Jean chortled and leaned against the doorway. “Something like that. Are you doing anything later?”

“Not that I know of. You?”

“J-Jean?” Kain Fuery approached the doorway and peered in at Roy. “M-Mr. Mustang.” 

“Hello, Mr. Fuery,” Roy said, unable--and a tad bit unwilling--to conceal a knowing smile. “I didn’t hear from you today. I guess Mr. Havoc here has really helped you take control… in the classroom.”

The shy teacher’s eyes widened and his face turned a deep crimson. “Uh…”

“Yeah, we’re gonna go now,” Jean cut in, giving Roy a stern yet amused glare.  “Call you later. Boss.”

With a parting wave, Jean left with Fuery in tow.

Talk about an odd couple. 

Roy stared at his to-do pile. He would probably be there until well past six, on account of missing the day before. He really should get back to work, but first...

*****

“Ha! I told you they would all want to jump your bones when they found out!”

Al smiled victoriously. Surely no other sibling in the history of the planet was so thrilled at the prospect of his brother amassing a legion of gay-loving fans. 

“I can’t believe she told everyone,” Russ said, clearly less than thrilled.

“She said that she only told one person,” Ed clarified. 

“Same difference.” Russ turned on the game console in Al’s bedroom with a frown. He sat down on the floor and proceeded to work out his obvious frustration by murdering unsuspecting video game characters. 

A pleasant chiming sound mixed in with the machine gun fire from Al’s television. Ed glanced down at his phone and saw an awaiting text message.

_I miss you._

Ed smiled warmly and resisted a ridiculously romantic urge to kiss his phone. “Be right back,” he said, walking out of the room.

Russ watched him leave with a scowl. “A love text from Mr. Mustang, I assume.”

“Probably,” Al said, plopping down next to Russ and grabbing a controller to join in the carnage. “I’ve been trying to figure something out,” he said, concentrating on shooting.

“What’s that?”

“Are you homophobic? Or just jealous?”

“What do you think, Al?”

“I think you like my brother,” Al said. 

“I do.”

Al nodded and shot a mercenary who was about to shoot Russ. “I thought so,” he said, never taking his eyes off the screen. “If Ed were single, I wouldn’t mind it. The two of you, I mean.”

“Really?”

Al shrugged. “Sure. You’re my best friend, after all. But he’s _not_ single.”

Russ sighed. “I know.”

“And Roy is really great.”

“Mm-hm.”

“So I shouldn’t have to warn you, right?”

“… Warn me about what?”

“Trying to come between them. Not that I think anyone could. But still… if you’re thinking about it… that wouldn’t be good.” 

Russ smiled in defeat. “Never fear, Al. I wouldn’t dream of pissing you off.”

“That’s a good thing--oh fuck, I’m dead!”

Al grinned as he resurrected his character and joined the fray for a second go-round. 

*****

Russ focused on his gameplay and tried not to think about Ed in the next room, getting lovey dovey with that old man on the phone he bought for him. 

He didn’t want to upset Al. Truly, he didn't. But he also knew in his spoiled heart that it was already too late to make such futile promises. 

Russ couldn't believe how easy it had been. A simple internet search for schools in Ed’s former hometown provided him with a quick, and somewhat shocking, answer in a matter of minutes.

Roy Mustang wasn’t a teacher. That would have been bad enough.

He was a principal.

A fucking principal.

A fucking thirty-something-year-old principal who had been involved with a seventeen-year-old student.

_If Ed were single, I wouldn’t mind it._

Fair enough.

If everything went according to Russ’ plan, Ed would be single again.

Very soon. 


	21. The Talented Mr. Tringham

“So we're starting today, right?”

“… I don’t know, Al. We’ll see.” Ed didn’t have the heart to tell his little brother that he wasn't necessarily the best choice of driving instructors. 

“It’s gonna be so cool,” the teen said, smiling joyously. Ed smiled back; it was automatic where Al was concerned. “I think you’ll do well,” he added, speaking with all the wisdom and authority of one whole year of driving experience.

“Well, I couldn’t possibly be any--” _worse than you_  was what almost came out of Ed's mouth. “Like I said, we’ll see,” he quickly amended. 

The brothers continued their leisurely post-lunch walk to Al’s next class, which was on the way to Ed’s. “Oh, when is your friend Windy coming to visit?”

“Win _ry_ ,” Ed corrected. “I don’t know, soon though. Or else I’ll never hear the end of it.” He had already gotten an earful for not keeping her up to date on how things were going with Roy. 

“Is she pretty?”

Ed gave Al a curious glance. “Yeah, she is. Why do you want to know?”

“Oh, it’s not for me,” Al said. “I was just thinking maybe you could introduce her to Russ.”

“I could,” Ed said. “But I’m not sure if she would be his type.”

“I don’t think Russ has a type, other than whatever he decides he wants,” Al said. “Besides, this way he would…”

Ed smiled. “Leave me alone?”

“Something like that. I just don’t want him getting any ideas.”

Ed opted not to tell Al that not only had Russ already gotten ideas, but _tried_ them as well. “He knows I’m with Roy.” 

“Yeah, but…” Stopping in front of the door to his classroom, Al let out a worried sigh and stared down at his older brother. “All I’m saying is that I know how pushy he can be when he wants something. I’ve seen it.  I’ve never seen it over another _guy_ before, but still. I know how he is.”

“There’s nothing to worry about,” Ed said. “ _Nothing_ is going to come between me and Roy.” 

Al smiled in relief and Ed had a sudden urge to ruffle his hair. He didn’t think it would embarrass him, but he didn’t want to take the chance. “That reminds me--when do I meet the world-famous Martel?”

An instant glow radiated from Al’s face at the mention of her name. Ed could have sworn the kid actually swooned. It was adorable. 

“Tomorrow,” Al said. “She’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Can’t wait. I’ll see you after school.”

“Bye!” Al backed into the classroom and promptly bowled over a poor, unsuspecting girl. He immediately helped her to her feet, grinning at his own clumsiness. 

Ed felt a bittersweet tug on his heart yet again when he saw his mother in Al’s face. He waved and turned to leave, completely unaware of the shady-looking boy who followed him. 

*****

“Hey! Elric!”

The sound of his name snapped Ed out of his thoughts and he spun around in the direction of the voice. 

Despite his new and still somewhat mystifying acceptance among the students, Ed still retained enough of a survivor’s instinct from his years at other schools to know that this was going to be trouble. He recognized the boy from his gym class. And he recognized the hate.

It seemed everyone didn’t love him, after all.

“Yeah?” he said casually, standing his ground. Gone were the days when he would duck his head and walk away, hoping to avoid any conflict. 

The would-be bully stopped directly in front of Ed and glared down into his face. The guy had about a foot on Ed but that didn’t faze him in the least. 

“Word is you’re a faggot. Is that true?”

Ed was vaguely aware of the shocked gasps of students within earshot. 

“Well, if that’s the word,” he said quietly. He was not about to go into a long-winded speech on the complexities of sexuality with an idiot wannabe thug whose IQ most likely kept him out of the accepted range for mental retardation by a whisper. Nor was he going to deny his relationship with Roy. Ever. He gazed defiantly at the teen, his golden eyes very much the color of fire, almost daring him to make a move. 

The bully poked Ed in the chest with a finger. Strike one. 

“Dude. You’re in my P.E. class,” he said with a disgusted look on his face. “I don’t wanna get naked around you.”

The school bell rang. Great, not even a week in and he was already late for a class. 

“Well, if you think you won’t be able to control yourself around me, then that’s probably a good idea,” Ed said solemnly.

“Wha--?” The teen’s mouth opened and closed like a fish, speechless to Ed’s reply. 

He pushed Ed back against a nearby wall. Strike two.

“What did you say to me, you little queer?” The kid, enraged at the idea of having his testosterone-driven, red meat-eating, heterosexual status questioned, raised a fist.

Strike three.

Ed readied his right arm, prepared to raise it in defense of an attempted punch. If all went well, the kid would obliterate every bone in his hand.

But he never had a chance to swing. Russ was on the thug in a flash, pinning his arm behind him and twisting his wrist in a direction the human body never intended it to go. The kid cried out in pain and Russ pushed him away. 

“What the fuck, Tringham?” the scorned bully whined, rubbing his shoulder.

“Go to class, Leo,” Russ warned. 

“Is he your bitch now or what?” Leo snarled. 

“No,” Russ said calmly. “But the position’s open if you’re interested.”

Ed and Leo both looked at Russ in surprise. 

Leo’s face turned bright red. “You-!”

“What’s going on out here?!”

The three of them turned and saw Ms. Hawkeye glaring at them. 

_Oh shit,_ Ed thought, recalling her reputation as a woman not to be fucked with. 

“Leo, classes have started. I strongly suggest you find yours.  _Right now_.” 

“Yes, Hawk--Ms. Hawkeye,” Leo stammered, beating a quick retreat. 

“Russell,” she said, turning her powerful gaze on him. “I thought you were going to the bathroom?”

“I am, ma’am,” Russ said obediently. 

“As I recall, it’s not in this direction.” 

The woman looked at Ed, who gulped nervously. Bullies didn’t worry him in the least. The wrath of the Hawk most certainly did. 

“Edward.”

“Yes?” _OhGodshe’sgonnakillme!_

“I trust you can find your way back to my classroom without any further delay.” Her cool stare thawed ever so slightly and she walked away.

That was it? Where was the legendary tongue-lashing? The terror? The fury?

Or had she heard everything that just happened?

“Wow.” Russ was just as stunned as Ed. 

“Yeah,” Ed agreed. He was certainly expecting much worse. 

“You okay?” Russ asked.

“I didn’t need your help.”

“Believe me, I know that,” Russ said, recalling all too well the feel of solid metal crashing into his chest. “But the _last_ thing you need is for someone to accuse you of using your arm as a weapon.”

Ed remembered the panic he had caused by destroying that jerk’s desk on the fateful day Roy came into his life. He didn’t care for being popular, but he didn’t want to be feared by his classmates either. 

“Thanks,” he said softly. 

“You’re welcome,” Russ replied with a small smile. “You better get back before she kills you for sure.”

“Aw hell.” Ed hurried off to class.

Russ shoved his hands into his pockets and watched Ed’s blond ponytail sway with each step until he was out of sight.

He sighed deeply and headed off, taking the scenic route to the boy’s room and trying to silence the demonic voices of common sense and reason that resonated in his mind, questioning his decision to try and steal Ed away from Roy.

He had already staked his claim and it was too late to reconsider.

… Wasn’t it?

*****

Russ stifled a yawn and glanced at the clock.

Five. As in a.m.

He’d been sitting at his desk for nine hours now and his body protested vehemently against being deprived food and rest. 

For the tenth time, he read the email he’d written, the last of countless drafts done over the evening and night, and lightly tapped his fingers against the keyboard as he deliberated his next move. His cold grey eyes, which had never been known to show much in the way of emotion to anyone, scanned each and every word, weighing the sound of it, the feel of it. Technically speaking, it was a well-written masterpiece. However...

He ran his hands over his face and through his blond hair, bringing them to rest at the back of his neck. “Fuck,” he whispered to the empty room. 

His eyes darted along the first line of the email.

_Dear Superintendent Bradley…_

The email went on to outline information damning enough to not only guarantee the loss of a certain principal’s job, but his freedom as well.

Was that really what he wanted to do?  _Really?_

Russ was not stupid. He knew that if he did this, it would come to light that he was the one who volunteered Roy Mustang’s livelihood to the wolves. He would have to testify. Fletcher would never look at him the same way again. Russ was hardly a model brother, but he actually _did_ care what the little pipsqueak thought of him. And Al. Al would never talk to him again. They had been friends forever and Russ couldn’t even begin to imagine not having him around.  Worse still, he would stand to lose the one thing that he wanted most out of all of this. 

Every single, solitary sign pointed in the direction of doom. But still, he had been so willing to do it. 

Why?

“Because I want Ed. And if I can’t have him…”

_… then no one will._

He thought back to the incident in the hallway earlier today--well, yesterday now--and how Ed had accepted his actions as that of a friend. Would being friends with Ed, and _only_ friends, be so bad?

_But I want…_

Want, want, want. It was all about what Russ wanted. He _always_ got what he wanted.

It wouldn’t have been the first relationship that he ruined, so what was the big deal?

He hated Roy. He hated him for being so fucking charming and cool. For winning over his little brother and Al--for God’s sake, Al wouldn’t shut up about how great he was. Russ hated him most of all for having the one thing he wanted. 

He hated the man so much that he could hardly stand to think about him without wanting to break something.

... But enough to ruin his life? Was he truly capable of doing something that evil?

Russ read over the email one final time.

When he was done, he calmly used the mouse to move the little white arrow to its destination.

*****

“What a fucking day,” Roy said to himself as he walked into his office and collapsed into chair, closing his eyes.

The school day was only half over yet he'd already had more issues in the past few hours than he normally had in an entire week. The teacher’s union was griping again and, although he more than understood their plight most of the time, he had to represent the “evil” school board that refused to acknowledge their tireless efforts and measly pay. Some little jerkface spray painted graffiti in the boy’s locker room and Roy had to restrain Jean from kicking his ass. The parents of two girls caught making out for the benefit of onlookers were disputing the in-school suspension of their daughters, accusing him of being, ironically enough, a homophobe. 

Without opening his eyes, he pulled out his cell phone. Maybe Lou would want to have lunch with him--

“Mr. Mustang?”

Sheska’s timid voice cut through his thoughts of eating.  He opened his eyes and frowned. The woman looked downright terrified.

“Yes?”

“Superintendent Bradley.... He’s…”

Roy glanced down at his desk phone and saw that none of the lights were flashing.

“No, sir.” A small whimper floated across the room to Roy’s ears. “He’s here.”

Roy immediately sat up.

“He’s _here_?” 

The secretary looked as if she was on the verge of tears, which did not bode well. Not at all.

“Yes, sir. And he says he needs to see you right away.” 


	22. Revelations

Roy sat at his desk, staring blindly into space.  His entire body felt numb, paralyzed by the world of trouble that he now faced.

An hour had passed since Superintendent Bradley had left his office. Due to the increase of murmuring outside of his door, Roy could only assume that the entire staff was already well aware of Bradley’s visit. 

They would soon have even more to contemplate once news of his… leave… became known.

He’d already met briefly with his vice principal. And he’d already crammed a few of his things into his now overflowing briefcase; Roy would be damned if he let anyone see him walking out with the shameful cardboard box of belongings--a glaring sign of the disgraced. 

The Superintendent had been understanding enough not to draw any further attention to the situation by calling in an escort to accompany him off the grounds, but that didn’t mean he could loiter there the rest of the day. Still, he sat quietly, trying to process how his life had once again taken such a dramatic turn in such a short period of time. 

This time, however, it was an undeniable turn for the worst.

Even though he had just recently contemplated uprooting his life for the sake of love, the thought of being forcefully removed from his job filled him with sadness. After he’d fought so hard to accept his feelings, he was now being faced with termination and possible jail time. It was the cruelest of ironies.

Roy sighed heavily. He couldn’t put off leaving any longer. 

He stood slowly and stepped away from his desk, pushing in the chair and running his hand along the fine leather. He then picked up his briefcase and walked to the door, pausing for one last look… and wondering if it would be the last time he would ever see the inside of his office again.   

*****

“Roy!”

Roy wasn’t fast enough. Before he could open the door to his car and get in, fully intending not to acknowledge anyone who tried to talk to him, Jean caught up to him. The man was hardly breathing heavily and Roy wondered once again how he was in such phenomenal shape for the deadly amount of nicotine he sucked in. 

“Jean, you should be in class,” Roy said tiredly.

“They don’t need me hovering over them to bounce a goddamn basketball.” Jean grabbed Roy by the shoulders. “What happened back there? Is this over those two fucking girls who made out?”

Roy shook his head slowly. Definitively. While Jean was far from the most intelligent person alive, he knew right away what his former lover’s downcast gaze meant. 

“Fuck,” Jean said quietly. “ _Fuck_.”

“I’m being placed on administrative leave pending further investigation,” Roy informed him, echoing the Superintendent’s words. 

“Shit.”

“Go back to your students, Jean,” Roy said firmly, easing out of his grip and opening the car door. “I’ll talk to you later,” he added, although he had no intention at all of answering his phone that evening. 

Jean, who suspected as much and planned on utilizing the spare key he'd held onto since the night of Roy's breakdown, obediently stood to the side while Roy got into his car and drove away. He remained there until the intimidating growl of the car’s engine could no longer be heard. Only then did he reluctantly make his way back inside the school...

*****

… where he walked past the front office, too lost in his own worried thoughts to notice the inquisitive eyes of Sheska following him. 

After he was gone, she quickly grabbed the phone and dialed a number with jittery fingers. Her eyes were red from crying and a fresh round of tears weren't far behind.

Roy had bid her his usual farewell and smile, which she had always found so incredibly charming. She had long gotten over her initial infatuation with the handsome and slightly enigmatic man, something she assumed every single female and most likely a handful of male staff experienced at some point or another, and had grown to respect and admire him immensely. A principal of outstanding principle, as she often referred to him.

Even though she was not entirely sure of the reason for the Superintendent’s sudden visit and Roy’s subsequent departure, she had an idea.

She had a _very good_ idea… because she knew too much.

Although such was almost always the case with people in her profession, wallflowers such as herself privy to the most secret and confidential of information by way of conversations and activities that were conducted in their presence as if they did not even exist, the secretary’s suspicion of Roy’s transgression came from a more personal source: one of her closest friends.

“Winry?” she whispered into the phone, sneakily glancing around the near empty office. “I need to talk to you. Something bad has happened, and I think its because of Ed.”

*****

“Martel, you might want to fasten your seatbelt.”

“What the hell, Al?” Ed exclaimed from the driver’s seat, casting his younger brother a scorned look. 

Al smiled playfully and, as usual, Ed had no choice but to forgive him. 

Martel leaned between the two brothers from the backseat. “Al, you really don’t have any room to talk, do you?” 

“Hey-!”

“Ha!” Ed laughed and turned on the car. Out of the side of his eye he saw her tenderly pat Al on the shoulder before settling back into the seat.

He smiled to himself, happy that Al was so ecstatic and relieved that he got along with the legendary Martel. Ed had been somewhat worried that they would not hit it off; the last thing he ever wanted was for Al to feel torn between two important people in his life. 

But they _had_ hit it off, and wonderfully so. In one school day, Ed had learned more about Gravitation than he ever cared to know, and, at Martel’s insistence, now had a few volumes of the manga in his book bag. Something to get him started until he “graduated to the harder stuff,” as she so eloquently put it. 

“My brother, the fanboy,” Al had quipped, giggling merrily and earning a punch to the arm… from Martel.

“Okay,” Al said now. “Put her in reverse and--”

“I know what I’m doing, Al,” Ed insisted, putting the car into reverse and easing his foot off the gas… where he promptly slammed on the brake and almost gave them all whiplash.

“Sorry,” he muttered, double, then triple-checking the rearview mirror for signs of life behind him. He felt a buzzing against his hip and ignored it for the time being; whomever was calling him--Winry, most likely--would have to wait. He was not quite yet ready to master driving and talking on his cell phone at the same time.

“I may have spoken too soon,” Martel cheekily surmised, opting to fasten her seatbelt after all.

*****

“Have you spoken to Ed yet?” Jean asked, snuffing out a cigarette before lighting another one.

Roy upended his beer bottle and finished it off before answering. It didn’t have nearly the effect on him as hard liquor did, but it helped nonetheless. “No,” he said. “I don’t want to tell him right now.”

Jean took a long drag, exhaling through his nostrils. “Better he hears it from you before someone shows up on his doorstep with a summons.”

Roy set the empty bottle on the dining room table and poked through the Chinese takeout box with a pair of chopsticks until he found the last shrimp, popping it into his mouth and chewing lazily. “It’s not to that point just yet since the accusation didn’t come from him.”

“Who was it?”

“I don’t know,” Roy answered. “Bradley wouldn’t tell me.”

“Hey,” Jean said, sucking the last bit of life out of his smoke before tossing it into an empty box. “You know I would never say anything, don’t you?”

Roy nodded. Jean was an asshole, no doubt about that. But he wasn’t a _fucking_ asshole. 

“So,” Jean started, shaking a fresh cigarette from its pack. “If it comes down to a full-on… trial or whatever, what’re you gonna do?”

“You mean am I going to deny it?”

Jean shrugged. “Your job’s one thing, Roy. Fuck your job. We're talking about your freedom here.”

“I can’t lie, Jean. I can’t.  I _won’t,_ ” he said firmly, standing up to gather the takeout boxes.

“Even if it means going to prison?”

“Whatever happens will be,” Roy said with a sad smile before walking into the kitchen and leaving Jean to stare after him in shock over the words that called to mind a memory he’d all but abandoned a long time ago.

*****

“Left hand, green circle!”

Ed laughed as he witnessed the Twister orgy going on before his very eyes. Al, Martel, Russ, and Fletcher were entangled in a frenzy of arms and legs on the small, colored sheet; it was almost impossible to tell which limb belonged to whom. He had resigned himself to being the official spinner due to his stature. There was no way in hell that someone of his height could keep up with the collective vertical advantage of everyone else. 

Before he could spin again, his cell phone buzzed; he’d forgotten to call Winry back after the gang congregated at the house and was certain he was about to catch hell for it.

“Hey guys, I gotta take this. Can someone take over for me?”

Martel unwound herself from the pile of bodies and grabbed the spinner from him. 

“Thanks,” he said.

“No problem.” She tapped him on the head with the spinner before using it to call out the next combination.

“Hello?” Ed said, watching as Al finally fell on his ass and took out Fletcher in the process. “What?” he furrowed his eyebrows, trying to hear what Winry had to say. “Wait, slow down… I can’t hear you… what’s wrong?” he asked, walking into his bedroom and closing the door as the game carried on without him.

*****

“No fair, Russ! You’re a cheater!”

“Al?”

“How can you cheat at Twister, jackass?”

“Al?”

“I don’t know, but you just did.”

_“Al!”_

All eyes turned to Ed, who stood in the entrance to the living room. His face was ashen and his eyes were wide with fear.

“Ed?” Al immediately pulled himself off of the Twister pile and ran over to his brother. “What is it?”

Without saying a word, Ed grabbed Al’s hand and pulled him into his bedroom, leaving Russ, Martel, and Fletcher to exchange questioning glances.

“I wonder what that was all about,” Fletcher inquired.

“It can’t be good,” Martel theorized, biting her lip. 

Only Russ remained silent, staring down the hallway towards Ed’s closed door with a look of calculated concern.

Five long minutes passed. Fletcher dutifully put the game away; it seemed their fun was more than likely over for the night.

“Not good at all,” Martel said, absentmindedly twirling the singular lock of blond hair that hung down the right side of her head.

“Fletcher,” Russ finally spoke up. “I think we should probably leave--”

The door to Ed’s bedroom burst open, slamming against the wall and scaring the hell out of all of them. Al barged out of the room with such a look of rage that he barely resembled the innocent and sweet teen all of them knew and loved.

“Al, wait!” Ed bolted out after him, running to catch up.

“Al?” Martel said hesitantly.

The enraged teen honed in on his target… and punched him square in the nose with a thundering right fist.

_“Ahh-!!”_  Before Russ even had a chance to raise a hand to his bloody and now possibly broken nose, Al tackled him to the ground.

_“You motherfucker!!”_ Al yelled, among other ranting obscenities, as he proceeded to wail on Russ’ face.

“Holy shit!” Ed cried out, wrapping his strong automail arm around Al’s waist and pulling him off of Russ.

“What are you doing?” Fletcher yelled, rushing to his brother’s side. Blood poured down the lower half of Russ’s face, both from his nose and lip. The battered and stunned teen struggled to get to his feet, prompting Al to lunge at him again.

“You sick, selfish fuck!!”

“Al, stop it!” Martel pleaded.

“Are you happy now, asshole?!” 

“Goddammit, Al, what are you talking about?” Ed asked, struggling to restrain the infuriated teen in spite of his automail. 

“Ask him,” he said, glaring murder at Russ. “He was up all night writing an email to some superintendent. You think it’s just a fucking coincidence between that and what happened to Roy?”

Russ looked at Fletcher. “You were nosing around my room again, you little fucking shit?”

“I … I was worried. I didn’t mean to look! I thought you were doing a paper!” Fletcher wisely inched closer to Ed and Al.

“You were going to send an email about Roy?” Ed asked Russ in disbelief.

“What happened to Roy?” Martel asked. 

“He was suspended… or… let go… or whatever the fuck.  And now he’s going to be investigated for being with Ed.” Al gave up trying to attack Russ and settled for giving him a disgusted look. 

“Ed--” Russ began.

“Don’t fucking talk to him,” Al demanded. 

“Listen, okay,” Russ pleaded with the room, swallowing a grotesque amount of blood while trying to clear his throat. “I _did_ write an email to a Superintendent Bradley. But--”

“Asshole,” Al muttered.

“--but I didn’t send it!” Russ insisted. 

“Bullshit,” Al interjected.

“I didn’t,” Russ repeated, staring at Ed. “I swear.”

“Why the fuck should anyone believe anything you have to say?”

“Al, stop.” Ed gently rubbed his brother’s back and walked in front of him, approaching Russ and staring into his mangled face. “You deleted it?”

“Yes,” Russ said. “I swear to you--”

“Don’t swear to me,” Ed said, handing him a box of Kleenex from the end table. 

“Ed, don’t fall for his smooth fucking talk!”

“Shut up, Al,” Ed said softly. 

“I’ll do whatever you want to prove it to you,” Russ said, wiping the now drying blood from his face as best as he could. “Check my email account, whatever it takes.” 

“I believe you,” Ed said.

“You do?” Russ asked hopefully.

Ed nodded. “I do. But the thing that bothers me the most is that you even wrote it in the first place. I really thought that we had moved past that shit. I thought we were friends. But that’s just not something you’re not capable of, except with Al.”

“Not anymore,” Al butted in.

“I don’t know. And I don’t care. Right now I don’t care if I ever talk to you again.” Ed headed back to his bedroom, pausing long enough to ruffle Fletcher’s hair. “If a single fucking strand of this kid’s hair is out of place tomorrow, I’ll kick your ass myself.” He turned to look at Russ one last time. “And Al won’t be able to stop me. Now get the fuck out of my house.”

*****

An hour later, Al crept into his brother's room and found him sitting on the edge of the bed.  His hair was loose and hung down past his shoulders, concealing his face.

“Ed?”

“Yeah?”

“Did you talk to Roy yet?”

“Not yet. Is everyone gone?”

“Yeah.” Al sat down next to him on his bed.

“Is Martel okay?”

“She didn’t say much to me when I took her home. I think I freaked her out a little bit.”

A ghost of a smile passed Ed’s lips. “You freaked _me_ out a little bit.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m just not used to people fighting for me.”

“Well, I guess you better get used to it because I’m always going to fight for you,” Al said stubbornly.

“I figured as much,” Ed said, leaning his head against Al’s shoulder and closing his eyes.  As much as he loved Roy, there was just something special about a brother's love that no romantic attachment could ever match. 

“Ed?”

“Yeah?”

“If it wasn’t Russ, then who was it?”

“I’m not sure… but I have a couple of ideas.”

The brothers sat in silence, listening as the house’s various timepieces signaled the top of a new hour.

“Al?”

“Yeah?”

“You feel like taking a road trip?”

“Sure. When do you want to leave?”

Ed raised his head and looked at his brother, relieved to see that he was back to his usual sweet self.

Al nodded and smiled. “Okay,” he said.  "Let's go."

*****

He hadn’t worn a suit since his wedding and highly doubted it would still fit. The years… well, they hadn’t treated him kindly. Especially around the waist.

But tomorrow was a special day and so he would, if only one last time, squeeze his large mass inside of the dust and mothball-scented dress shirt and dress pants that hung neatly on a hanger in the closet. The jacket had long since split up the back and he had never bothered to have it replaced. 

Tomorrow… the first day of Roy Mustang’s demise. 

His career’s demise, if nothing else.

But if he had his way, which he fully intended to, that fucker would be serving some serious jail time as well.  

He'd lost his wife.  He'd lost his home.  But if he could manage to accomplish this one thing, then he would be satisfied.  He had promised to get even with that cocky, mouthy principal who knew too much and, if nothing else, he was a man of his word.

Sig Curtis grinned as he settled his massive girth into the creaky bed of the hotel room he currently called home. He soon fell asleep, his snores all but rattling the four walls that surrounded him. 


	23. From This Moment

Despite Ed’s not-so-irrational fear of waking up dead at the hands of his brother’s driving, the teen weaved in and out of consciousness as the car headed down the highway toward the place he had once called home. He was lulled into sleep by the eclectic tunes that drifted from the car’s speakers and, at one point, by the soft sound of Al’s voice as he tried to soothe things over by phone with Martel. The girl looked tough, but Ed could only imagine how shocked she must have been at Al’s explosion. He was still stunned by it himself… although in a strange way, Al’s actions also solidified their bond. Lovers could always come and go (though he hoped that he and Roy would be together forever) but Al would always be there to defend him. It was a comforting thought. 

He was surprised by his own lack of fear over their impromptu journey. A month ago, he would have been terrified to make such a trip. But it was amazing what time and the support of family could do. 

Ed let out a large yawn and pried his eyes open. He looked at Al, who was happily humming along to the radio. That such a remarkable human being existed, and was his little brother no less.

“I can drive for a little while if you want,” he said in a sleep-raspy voice. 

Al never took his eyes from the road--a first, quite possibly. “I’m fine,” he said cheerily. “Go back to sleep.”

“You sure?”

“Mm-hm.”

“Is everything okay with Martel?”

Al smiled and nodded. “Yeah.”

“Good.” Ed closed his eyes again. With that settled, he dozed off, tired but excited to see his lover again.

*****

Russ didn’t have a broken nose after all. But his lip was busted for certain and his face was going to be sore and bruised for at least the next week to come.

He was lying on his back in bed with an ice cold towel draped across his face to ease the swelling. Everything from the neck up hurt like hell and he felt nauseous. His teeth were clenched in anger at the somewhat unjustified--or so he felt--attack on him that evening. 

_I deleted it!_  he thought stubbornly, not bothering to admit that he never should have written the email in the first place. What was the point of being honest if this was going to happen?

In Russ’ skewed hindsight, he almost regretted not sending it; he didn’t think he’d be any worse off if he had, plus he would have screwed Roy in the process. Now, not only did it look like Roy was going to get canned after all (Russ was more than curious about who else would have had the audacity to report him) but he wouldn’t even have the satisfaction of knowing he was the one who pulled the strings. 

“Russ?”

“What?” Russ snapped from beneath the towel.

“I-I brought you another towel and some painkillers,” Fletcher said hesitantly. 

“I don’t need anything from you,” Russ replied coldly. He moved the towel from his mouth so he could be heard clearly. “Or are you going to go running to Ed if I don’t take them?”

He heard an exasperated sigh from the doorway and felt a faint, but very distinct, tug of remorse.

“Russ,” his distraught brother tried again. “I wasn’t trying to start a fight. I only mentioned the email to Al in passing. I was worried because you were up all night.”

“If you’re so worried about how much sleep I’m getting, then why don’t you show a bit more consideration right now instead barging into my room at one in the morning and bothering me?” Russ ignored the guilt that crept into his chest. He knew in his heart that Fletcher had no possible way of knowing the outcome of his nosy concern, but he didn’t care enough to let it go. Not yet.

“But Russ--”

“Fuck off and leave me alone, Fletcher.” Unlike his lengthy internal debate over the email he had written, Russ knew right away that what he said to his little brother, who really was just about one of the sweetest, most unassuming people on earth, was so dreadfully wrong. 

He heard the boy’s hitched breathing as the door closed. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d ever made Fletcher cry, and it still made him feel like shit. But not enough to apologize. Again, not yet. 

Because for the moment, everything was still about Russell Tringham and the self-perceived injustice he suffered over his last-second decision to do the right thing.

Being a martyr was a difficult task.

*****

“Are you sure you want to do this, Ed?”

Ed took one last look at Al, who looked incredibly precious sleeping in the frilly pinkness of Winry’s bed, before closing the door and joining her in the living room of her small apartment. 

“I’m sure,” he said, handing her his empty coffee cup. He didn’t normally drink the stuff, but now that he was in town, he was too wound up for solid foods. 

Winry studied him at great length. “You really have changed, haven’t you? I mean, I could tell just by talking to you over the phone, but I really see it now.”

Ed shrugged. “I guess I have,” he said. It was the strangest thing; although he could clearly remember the person that he was before, it was almost as if the person he was now had also been there all along, waiting for the right moment to come to the surface.

He was nervous about confronting his past, but he wasn’t scared. He wasn’t scared at all.  That was the difference.

“Do you really think it’s a good idea to see him with everything that’s going on?” she asked, tapping her fingers against the cup. 

“No. But I have to.” Ed curled the car keys into his fist and made his way to the door. 

“Well, be careful,” Winry said, following him. “It’s bad enough you’re going to be driving around without a license. I'd like not to see you or Roy on the news today.”

Ed smiled and kissed her on the cheek. “I’ll do my best,” he promised. “Oh, and try to keep your paws off my brother, will you? He has a girlfriend.”

Winry grinned, knowing full well that the boy sleeping in her bed was hardly her type. “I’ll try to resist the urge.” 

“Wish me luck,” Ed said, walking out of the door and shutting it behind him.

Winry’s smile faded. She sighed and stared at the closed door.  While Ed didn’t seem all that worried about the situation, she was more than worried enough for the both of them.

“Good luck,” she whispered.

She walked into the kitchen and took stock of her refrigerator. According to Ed, Al had one hell of an appetite.

*****

_So much for staying out of the news_ , Ed thought, staring at the flashing lights behind him.

“Damn it,” he whispered, pulling over to the side of the road and shutting off the car. He glanced in the side mirror and gaped in horror. 

The man who got out of the police cruiser was as big as a planet. Sig was a big guy, but this cop was, from the look of him, nothing but muscle. 

“Holy shit,” he muttered as the man approached his window.

“Good morning,” the large officer said. “License and registration, please.”

Ed handed him all of Hohenheim’s pertinent vehicular information. “I… don’t have a license. Yet.” 

“Is that so?” The officer took Ed’s info and read it over. “What’s your name, son?”

“Edward Elric, sir.” 

“Edward Elric,” the man repeated, still perusing the forms. “You’re the car owner’s son, I take it?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Looks like you’re a long way from home, Edward Elric. And without a license, at that.” 

“Well, my brother actually drove us here, but he’s sleeping over at a friend’s.”

“Why are you here?”

“I came to see… someone.”

The man peered down into Ed’s face. “It must be someone very important if you’re willing to break the law.”

Ed let out a shuddering sigh. Yes, he _was_ breaking the law, even though it was pretty small stuff on the grand scale of legal offenses. “It’s an emergency,” he said, wondering how he would even begin to explain the situation without implicating Roy.

“An emergency, you say.” The policeman returned the documents to Ed. “Then I won’t keep you. But I do suggest you at least make an effort to adhere to the speed limit until you get to your destination.”

“Huh?” Ed wasn’t sure he’d heard him correctly. Was he being let go? 

“Go on,” the officer said. “Before I change my mind.”

“Yes sir.” He smiled gratefully at the man before turning on the car and slowly pulling away.

Lou Armstrong, whose family had been protecting and serving civilians for generations, grinned as he watched Ed riding the brakes of that fine luxury automobile like a little old lady. He thought back to the conversation he had with Roy last night, one in which he learned some surprising things about his oldest and dearest friend. The sheer amount of love Roy felt for that boy had been so evident in his face and voice that there was no way Lou could have ever done anything except give him his support. He had never experienced those emotions himself, at least not yet, but who was he to deny it to those fortunate enough to find it?

He climbed back into his cruiser and jotted down the car’s plate number in case any more trouble arose before the kid got to where he was going. Just as he flipped off the flashing lights, a red sports car zoomed past on the opposite side of the road. Lou groaned in annoyance and turned the lights back on, peeling out to catch up to it.

It was going to be one of those days.

*****

Jean poked his head into Fuery's classroom and found him sitting at his desk, reading over a pile of essays. He was taken aback at just how much he actually liked the guy. All that cuteness and innocence wrapped up in a geeky frame made him inexplicably irresistible.

Well, that and ten inches of cock.

“Hey,” he said, inviting himself in.

Fuery looked up and glared at him. Even that was adorable.

“Where were you last night?” the teacher demanded to know. “I called you five times.”

“I know, and I’m sorry,” Jean said, surprising himself with the sincerity of his words. “I was over at Roy’s house.”

_Until I went home and got shitfaced because I remembered the night I told him I loved him._

Fuery's expression immediately became one of concern. “How is he?”

“He’s been better.” Jean sat on the edge of the desk and stared down at Fuery's red-inked corrections. 

“I suppose you know why he was put on leave.”

Jean nodded.

“And I suppose you can’t tell me why?”

Jean shook his head. “Not that I don’t want to.”

Fuery frowned. “It must be really serious.”

Jean nodded again. “You could say that.”

“Do you love him?”

Jean was caught off guard by the question. When he and Roy were together, they had always taken every precaution not to be found out. He was positive that no one had known about them, although he had also suspected that Sheska suspected. 

“Not anymore,” he answered. And it was true. For the most part. “So do you forgive me? I’ll make it up to you tonight.” Jean flashed his sexiest smile and imagined Roy rolling his eyes. 

The naïve, bespectacled teacher blushed, which was all the answer Jean needed. 

_Positively adorable_ , he thought. 

*****

Ed stood at the door of the home he had called prison, or prison he had called home--both were equally fitting. An odd thing happened the minute he parked his father’s car in the Curtis’ driveway. Whatever nervousness he’d felt dissipated with each step he took up the path that led to the door. And now, as he stood there, he could feel the adrenaline racing through his body. He recalled having the same sensation that day he destroyed Genz’s desk with his automail fist.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl as he heard the doorknob turn. His hands involuntarily curled into fists as the door swung open...

... and immediately relaxed as he looked into the ghastly and haggard face of his foster mother.

*****

Izumi had always been a pale-skinned woman. Ed faigured that it was because she wasn’t human; no one who treated a child the way she treated him could have possibly been one. 

But the woman before him now was even paler. She looked frailer too, but that could have been his imagination. Either way, he really didn’t care.

“Ed. What are you doing here?” she asked with a crease in her brow.

“You know goddamn well why I’m here,” he said, pushing his way past her into the house, and surprised as hell that she let him.

“No, I don’t.” She closed the door and folded her arms, waiting for him to explain himself.

“Don’t play dumb with me, Izumi. Where’s Sig?” Ed’s eyes darted around the room, waiting for the first sign of trouble to spring out from the shadows, even though it was a futile thought; Sig could never dream of being stealth considering the mass he was hauling around. 

“Sig doesn’t live here anymore. And you can settle down. I’m not going to do anything to you.” She coughed lightly into her hand and walked over to a couch that brought nasty memories to Ed's mind. She sat down gingerly and looked at him with a cool expression. “Now what am I playing dumb about?”

Ed stood his ground by the door. “If you had a problem with me, you should have kept it with me. There was no reason for you to bring Roy into it.” 

Izumi frowned, clueless. “Roy? Who the hell is Roy? ... Oh, your principal? What the hell are you talking about? I haven’t talked to that man in a month.”

“That didn’t stop you from reporting him to the school board, did it?” 

“What? Why would we do that? We would have gotten into just as much trouble for taking the money.”

Now it was Ed’s turn to be confused. “Money? What money? What are you talking about?”

“What are _you_ talking about?” 

They stared at each other across the room with matching expressions of anger and bewilderment.

_What the hell is going on?_ Ed thought.  _Did Roy give them money? For me?_

Izumi coughed again and cleared her throat. “I guess we both have some explaining to do,” she said. “Sit down.” When Ed made no attempt to move, she added, “Please.”

It was a word he had never heard in all the years he’d known her. And that made him more nervous than anything.

*****

Izumi watched from the living room window as Ed slowly backed out into the road and drove away. The coughing spell that she had barely managed to suppress while he was there came on with a vengeance and she hacked into her hand for almost a full minute. When she pulled it away, she saw with no surprise whatsoever that her palm was full of dark red blood. 

It didn’t seem like much, the things that she had revealed to him. But the look on his face when she told him exactly what Roy had done to get them to leave Ed alone was… well… priceless. 

It was as good a going away gift as she could have given him.

Then again, thinking ahead to what she was about to do, perhaps there was one more thing that he might appreciate even more.

The taillights flashed at an intersection before moving forward. Izumi watched the car until it was out of sight.

She never saw Edward Elric again.

*****

Roy had always complained about needing time off. Now that he had it, he was bored right out of his mind. 

He’d just gotten off the phone with Jean who, after promising never to call him Boss again, proceeded to call him Colonel instead. _I don’t know why, I just like the way it sounds_ , he’d said, sounding suspiciously upbeat. Roy was genuinely happy for Jean and hoped that Fuery, despite his lack of teaching ability, could give him the one thing Roy never could.

He thought about sending a text to Ed but didn’t want to interrupt him while he was in school. They hadn’t talked the night before and Roy still wasn’t sure how he was even going to begin telling him what had happened. But he would cross that bridge tonight when they spoke. 

Roy knew he should have been doing something more constructive than playing solitaire on his computer--like finding a good lawyer or a new job altogether--but for the moment he was content to simply sit there and...

He glanced up from the screen, his head cocked to the side.  He could have sworn he heard something downstairs. Deciding that he would be expending entirely too much energy to get up and check it out, he turned back to his game. 

“So this is what principals do when they’re not at work.”

Even though Roy knew the voice, he was still shocked when he turned around in his seat and saw Ed standing there. 

“Ed?” Roy stood up. “You should be in school right now.” 

"So should you." Ed grinned and closed his eyes. When he did, a tear fell from each one. Roy stepped forward in alarm and grabbed him by the arms. When Ed opened his eyes, Roy could immediately tell that those were not the first tears he’d shed that day.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“You’re an idiot, that’s what’s wrong,” Ed responded. “Don’t you know that I’m not worth all the trouble you put yourself in?” He snaked his arms through Roy’s and wrapped them around him, pulling him into a fierce embrace. “I love you,” he whispered into his neck, gripping him even harder. 

Roy shut his eyes and pressed his face into Ed’s hair, breathing in its clean scent. He locked his arms around Ed’s waist and picked him up, hugging him tightly. Somewhere, far away in the distance of his subconscious, he knew the unbelievable risk of Ed’s presence given his current situation. But even that wasn’t enough of a deterrent to let him go.

His job, his home, his freedom… none of those things mattered a fraction as much as holding Ed in his arms.


	24. Retribution

Winry shook her head in amazement. She tried to find the words to express it but could only shake her head again.

They were sitting in a secluded booth at McDonald's. Winry had long since finished her meager meal while the bottomless pit in front of her was still going strong. Ed had said that his brother had a big appetite, but this was just unnatural. The volume of food that Al had consumed in the last hour was enough, she wagered, to feed a small country. And he wasn’t even done yet.

“Tell me more about my brother. From before,” Al said between chomps. 

“What would you like to know, Al?”

“What kind of person was he?” 

_Withdrawn. Hurt. Depressed. And, if things hadn’t changed, maybe even suicidal._

“Quiet and shy,” she said, settling on the safest descriptions she could think of. She had no idea how much Ed had divulged to his family about the things he’d been through, or how much he wanted them to know. “What did he tell you?”

Al set down his burger and frowned. “I know that other kids picked on him. Assholes.” 

Winry took a sip of her drink to hide her smile. She never thought that profanity could be cute until that moment.

“And I know that his foster parents weren’t very nice to him,” Al continued. “But he wouldn’t say much else about it.”

The young woman nodded, thinking back to the numerous times when Ed had shown up on her doorstep, bloody and broken. 

“But none of that matters anymore,” she reassured him. “He has you now, doesn’t he?”

Al blushed and smiled kindly, and Winry could see, once again, why Ed adored him so much. This Martel, about whom she’d heard everything she would ever care to know and more, was a very lucky girl. 

Maybe a guy like Al could be her type after all.

*****

While Ed’s height was a detriment in many everyday situations, Roy found it to be perfect in ones such as these. 

They were sitting in the chair at his desk. Ed’s knees straddled his thighs as he burrowed his face into Roy’s chest. Roy tightened his hold around him and said a silent prayer of thanks for the nosy disposition of his secretary, which had ultimately led to this moment.

They’d been like that for the last hour, each filling the other in on their version of events over the last twenty-four hours. Like Ed and Martel, Roy had been stunned to hear about Al’s actions; the kid didn’t look like he would harm a fly, let alone beat someone up. But he understood the feeling all too well and took entirely too much satisfaction in the thought of Russ getting his face caved in. 

For Ed’s part, he’d held back a couple of vital pieces of information, because it was something he was going to deal with himself. Very soon.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled for what seemed like the hundredth time. 

“If you apologize one more time, I’m kicking you out of my house,” Roy replied, knowing there was no way in hell he would ever do such a thing. 

Ed smiled against Roy’s chest. Suddenly, he raised his head. “What’s with the ‘For Sale’ sign out front?”

Roy sighed. “I just thought it was time for something different,” he said, expressing the truth of his motivation in as few words as possible.

Ed stared at him, wanting to ask more. Instead, he settled for kissing him. When Roy felt a tongue ease past his lips, he reluctantly broke away, pressing his forehead into Ed’s. His self-control was already questionable at best; it was a miracle he had managed to stave off an erection this long. 

The teen grinned coyly and shifted in Roy’s lap, which didn’t help matters one bit. 

“Hey, Roy?”

“Hm?”

“If this thing gets bad, I don’t mind staying away. Laying low, or whatever. If it comes to that.” 

Roy was impressed by how much Ed had changed over the past month. The timid teen who had previously been terrified to look anyone in the eyes now met his stare without hesitation. He spoke freely and boldly, in stark contrast to the boy who never spoke unless spoken to. Even his hair had evolved; Roy had to admit he missed the braid because it had seemed so _Ed_ , but the loose ponytail did make him look older. More mature. 

_Thirty days_ , Roy mused. _Amazing._

“No,” he said. “I don’t want that. Neither do you.”

“But--”

“No,” Roy repeated firmly. 

He didn’t care what happened to him. But Ed had finally come out of his shell; there was no way in hell Roy would let him go back into it. Not for him. Not for anything. 

“So how long were you planning to be truant?” he asked, doing his best principal’s imitation.

Ed smiled innocently. “It’s practically the weekend already,” he said. “So there’s really no point in going back until Sunday.”

“Sunday?”

“Yeah. Unless you would rather not have me around for the next three nights.”

“And I suppose you happened to bring enough changes of clothing for that long?”

“Just so happens I did.” 

“You are something else,” Roy observed. 

Ed shrugged playfully and stood up, lightly tapping his numb right foot on the floor. 

“Are you going to pick up Al now?” Roy tried to sound nonchalant as he asked. He adored Al to no end--who didn’t?--and felt terribly selfish for wanting a little more time alone with Ed. 

“I’m going over there to check in and then I’ll have them bring me back for tonight so I’m not stuck driving around without a license. Getting pulled over once was more than enough.”

After hearing Ed’s earlier description of the incident, Roy knew exactly who the cop in question was. He was relieved it had been Lou. Driving around without a license to meet a lover twice one’s age was not something most law enforcement officials would understand.

“Is it okay that I don’t bring Al over tonight?” Ed asked with poorly concealed anticipation.

Roy nodded. “It's fine with me,” he said, not wanting to advertise his own eagerness.

Ed smiled knowingly, seeing past Roy’s façade. “I’ll be back. Maybe you’ll have actually beaten that game by then.” He gave him a quick peck on the lips and ran out of the room before Roy could think of a witty retort.

*****

He hadn’t lied… not exactly.

But Ed had conveniently neglected to inform Roy of his earlier visit to Izumi’s house. And he also failed to mention the stop he planned to make prior to returning to Winry’s apartment. It was best that Roy didn't know. Plausible deniability.

He navigated his father’s car down the street in accordance with Izumi’s directions, towards the seedy motel where Sig Curtis currently resided. 

And when he arrived there, he would… well…

A dark cloud passed over Ed’s face as he considered all the things his anger might reap.

*****

Roy stood up and stretched. He glanced down at the monitor and smirked at the solitaire game he had finally managed to win. He considered leaving the game window open to show Ed upon his return, but eventually decided not to. He was a grown man after all. One who had sat around for the better part of the morning playing computer games instead of getting anything else done, but still. 

His excitement grew with each passing minute. Tonight would be their first night together in that house, as a true couple in every sense of the word.

Although he was in what was most likely the worst trouble of his life, he was happier than he’d been in years.

Was it crazy, Ed being there? Yes.

Reckless? Undoubtedly.

Dangerous? Quite possibly. 

Worth it? _Absolutely._

*****

Two questions.

Russ thought that if one more person asked him one of two questions before he made it to his car, he would snap.

_What happened to your face?_

_Where are Ed and Al?_

Needless to say, it was the second question that bothered him the most. Because he didn’t know for certain.

He scoured the crowd of students for Fletcher, who hadn’t spoken to him since the night before and had also gone so far as to take the bus to school that morning to avoid him. Russ finally found him walking alongside Martel toward her car and managed to head them off.

“Fletcher,” he said, hating himself for the way the boy flinched at the sound of his voice. 

Fletcher glanced nervously around Martel, who stood in front of him, acting as a shield.

“I’m taking him home,” she said coldly.

“Fletcher,” Russ tried again, ignoring her. “Just come with me, okay?” It wasn’t an apology, and he’d be damned if he was going to give one in front of anyone. He just wanted to get him alone so that he could do it properly.

“Look, Russ, why don’t you just give him some time?”

“And why don't you mind your fucking business?”

“Don't talk to me like that!” 

“Why? Are you going to run and tell Al Have him hit me again?”

“No, asshole, I can do that myself!”

“Stop it!” Fletcher finally cried out. Martel immediately backed down and apologized, which infuriated Russ all the more because he felt that it somehow took meaning away from his own eventual apology. 

Fletcher timidly stepped from behind Martel and joined Russ, who didn't bother to hide his gloating. 

“I’ll call you later, Martel,” Fletcher said shyly. 

Martel smiled wearily. “Okay. And I’ll tell Al and Ed you said hello,” she added slyly, knowing Russ wouldn’t lower himself to asking her where they were, as much as he wanted to know.

“Let’s go,” Russ grumbled.

Martel watched as the siblings got into Russ’ car and left. Like many, she wondered how the hell they could possibly be related. 

*****

Sig unbuttoned his pants, letting his generous gut free for the first time since that morning. Things had gone rather well, or so he thought. He hadn’t technically said anything that wasn’t true--not yet, anyway. But he knew he was in for an even more difficult round of questioning tomorrow.  Roy Mustang was a well-respected educator and an accusation of such a lurid nature was almost blasphemy.

He had been forthright from the start about not knowing the true nature of Roy’s relationship with Ed, taking great care to express his ‘grave concern as a foster parent’ over the potentially inappropriate intentions of a high school principal. But the seed of suggestion had been firmly planted, especially given that he had so willingly offered money for Ed’s freedom. With that misplaced act of charity, Mustang had, Sig hoped, essentially sealed his fate.

A light tapping interrupted his thoughts of retribution and he ambled over to the door to answer it. He’d ordered a pizza about fifteen minutes ago and opened the door, amazed at how quickly they delivered.

“That was fast--”

Sig's mouth closed with a snap.  He could not wrap his mind around what he saw. It was Ed; there was no doubt about that.

But yet at the same time, it wasn’t. 

The Edward Elric he knew was scared of his own shadow and had _never_ dared to look him in the eye for more than a few seconds at a time, let alone glare at him with such a blazing and defiant hatred. 

“Ed?”

“Hello, Sig.” The boy’s voice was quiet, not unlike before, but there was still something different about it. Something more.

Something dangerous.

“What are you--?”

He was never able to finish the question because Ed kicked in the door with his automail leg, knocking him backwards.

Ed closed the door.

Then he locked it.

***** 

“Why are you here? Did that bitch decide to give you the money?” Sig snarled through his teeth.

That bitch, Ed assumed, was Izumi. And the money in question, as far as he knew, was the money that Roy had given them. He had no idea Sig was actually referring to Izumi’s life insurance.

“I’m here because of Roy,” he said.

“So you _are_ fucking him. Or wait, he’s fucking _you_ , am I right?” Sig grinned, feeling foolishly justified. “I’ll be damned. All of his big talk and he's nothing but a pervert too-”

In a flash, Ed was on him. He planted a crushing automail fist onto Sig’s left cheek and reveled in the crunching sound. He felt the man’s jawbone cave under the force of the blow and two, maybe even three teeth crumble beneath his touch. Sig reeled from the sudden attack and harshly exhaled blood and fragments of teeth from his mouth. 

“You… little...” His shock quickly melted into rage, and he charged like a bull at Ed.

It was the worst thing he could have done.

Using the man’s own momentum against him, Ed quickly sidestepped Sig and planted a strong metal kick to his ample ass, sending him sprawling on the floor. He was rewarded with the rather distasteful sight of seeing Sig trying to pull himself to his feet and kicked him again.

“You little bastard,” Sig panted, rolling onto his back to glare at him.

Bingo.

Using every single, solitary bit of might that his body could muster, Ed used his left foot to stomp down on Sig’s groin, permanently rendering it useless for anything aside from basic bathroom functions. The man’s raving dissolved into a chorus of pained screams that could no doubt be heard by the entire building. 

Ed’s watched as Sig rolled from side to side, clutching the remnants of his manhood. He settled onto his left side, his screams reduced to painful moaning. Tears leaked out of his eyes and he promptly vomited on the floor.

“You better fix this, Sig,” Ed said. “Fix it or I’m telling everyone what you did to me.” He knelt down. “And if you ever try to hurt Roy again, I'll kill you.”

Even through the pain, Sig’s eyes widened. Not because it seemed so unlikely that the teen would ever threaten him.

But because he _believed_ it.

Ed stood up and walked to the door. He stopped and turned around, taking one last look at the sad excuse for a human being writhing around on the floor.

He thought the whole thing peculiar. After everything Izumi and Sig had ever done to him, it was an act of malice against Roy that finally inspired him to fight back. He wasn't a shrink, and he didn’t know what any of it meant. But it would do. As long as Roy was safe, it would do just fine.

“Goodbye, Sig,” Ed said, walking out of the room…

*****

… and directly into the path of a pizza delivery man.

“I’ll take that.” Ed dug out his wallet and paid for the pizza, tipping the man generously.

Al would probably appreciate a light snack. 

*****

“So they went back home, huh?”

Russ set the game controller aside and stretched his legs on the floor. He had suspected as much, but he was glad to receive confirmation.

“Russ? Can I ask you something?”

“What is it?”

Fletcher looked down and blushed. Russ sighed; he had a strong idea where this was going.

“Do you… do you… like Ed?”

“Sure I do. Don’t you?” He knew damn well what the boy was implying, but tried to play it off. 

The young teen’s face turned an even deeper shade of crimson. “I-I mean… you know… _like_ like.”

Russ sighed again. “Yeah, Fletcher.   _Like_ like.”

“Oh.” 

Fletcher frowned and chewed on his lower lip. Russ felt that persistent, somewhat annoying thing in his chest again, and cursed his parents for bringing a life into the world he had no choice but to care about. 

“Does that bother you? That I  _like_ like a guy?” he asked, realizing that up until now, his little brother had been unaware of his sexual leanings.

“No,” Fletcher insisted. “I just wish that you could find someone else to like besides Ed.”

_Me too_ , Fletcher, Russ thought, surprising himself. Even so, he couldn’t help wanting who he wanted.

The brothers Tringham sat in awkward silence. When it became too much, Russ spoke up.

“Hey, Fletcher.”

“Yeah?” 

“How about some Halo?” 

Fletcher immediately perked up and smiled, nodding happily. 

_Goddammit. Stop being cute._

“Well, put it in,” Russ demanded. When Fletcher turned away, he finally let the smile come, a warm and lovely smile he took great pains to keep hidden from others.

_I really am an asshole_ , he thought, finally admitting to himself what the rest of the world already knew.

*****

Al was grateful for the pizza. And Winry was grateful for the money to replenish her empty pantry.

The two of them dropped Ed off at Roy’s with a series of annoying _oohs_ and _awws_. Winry, who was hardly the chastest girl in the world, slipped a condom into his pocket, which had tickled Al to no end. 

And now he was with the man he loved.

Everything was as it should be.

Ed sat patiently on the edge of Roy’s bed where he’d been for the past half hour now, waiting.

He was wrapped only in a towel from the shower he’d taken. His damp hair hung down his shoulders and back. 

He felt a distinct sense of… completion. With his visit to Sig’s hotel room, he had finally exorcised the last demon that haunted him and had, in a manner of speaking, washed away the last vestiges of the old, tortured Edward Elric, leaving behind the new, and much more improved version that currently sat there. 

He had done what he set out to do. And with that objective completed, all he wanted was this.

“Ed?” Roy knocked lightly before poking his head into the bedroom.

“Right here.” Ed stood up. The towel left very little to the imagination.

Roy stepped into the room and hungrily looked him up and down. “... Dinner’s ready.”

*****

Roy was positive that Ed had no idea just how beautiful he was, automail and all.

Wasting no more time, they met each other halfway, their lips colliding, tongues intertwining. Without parting, they stumbled over to the bed. Roy pushed him down and climbed on top of him, kissing him all over. He moved down Ed's neck and chest, covering every inch of skin and delighted by the way Ed arched and jolted beneath him. Roy slowly lapped at the sensitive skin around Ed’s navel while loosening the towel that was tied around his waist. He raised Ed’s left leg over his shoulder and moved on to the inside of his thigh and the back of his knee, licking him in long, teasing strokes and that left Ed panting and squirming.

While Ed thought Roy’s attention to detail was going to drive him crazy, none of it prepared him for the sensation of the older man’s tongue repeatedly swiping against him _down there_. He let out a cry louder than all of the others combined and, feeling his balls draw up tight, willed himself not to come yet. He grabbed onto the bed’s comforter in lieu of grabbing himself and bit his lip to keep the screaming to a minimum.

“Roy,” he moaned, trembling helplessly as pleasure ravaged his body.

Sensing that he’d tortured him enough, Roy ran his tongue along Ed’s shaft before taking him completely into his mouth. Ed’s eyes opened wide as he cried out yet again, and a wildly random thought--

_How the hell am I ever going to be quiet with Al in the house?_

\--passed through his mind before it was lost to an impending orgasm. He tentatively placed a hand on Roy’s head and Roy covered it with his own, encouraging the teen to guide him. 

“… gonna…” was all the warning Ed could give before he came, vocalizing his ecstasy in a series of shouts and praises to deities, tightening his grip on Roy’s hair, and thrusting hard inside of his mouth. He shuddered with every lick and swallow before his muscles finally gave way and he fell back against the bed in a breathless heap. 

He felt Roy raise up between his legs, and he pried open his eyes in time to see the older man unzipping his pants and stroking himself, letting his breath out in jagged gasps, close to his own climax. Ed reached out and interlaced their fingers as they moved along his cock together. Roy’s breath quickened and he grunted softly, covering Ed’s stomach with his release. He fell down on top of Ed, who wrapped his arms around him and pulled him close. 

Roy smoothed Ed’s hair out of his eyes and kissed him, gently nibbling at his upper and lower lip. Ed had never felt more loved, and he thought his heart might just break from such immeasurable joy. 

“I’m going to need another shower,” he finally whispered.

“Sorry about that,” Roy said with a sheepish smirk. “But it was either you or the comforter. You’re much easier to clean.”

He rolled to the side and pulled Ed into his arms, lazily running his fingers through long blond hair. 

Dinner would have to wait just a little bit longer.

*****

The large man opened the door to the home that had been passed down through his family for generations. 

“Hello,” he said to his guest. The meeting he was about to take was strictly off the record; though he was normally one to follow procedure to the letter, when it came to Roy Mustang, he would always be a friend before he was an officer. “Please come in.”

Izumi Curtis entered the house.

Lou Armstrong closed the door.


	25. Uninvited

“I think we should see other people.”

Jean sat up in his bed, which had seen numerous one night stands come and go, A thin sheet slid down his stomach and pooled around his waist. He gawked at Fuery, who was getting dressed. “Why?”

“It’s not anything you did, Jean, honest,” Fuery insisted, putting on his glasses. “It’s just that this is all so new to me and it’s kind of overwhelming. I don't want to jump into anything too serious.”

Jean leaned back against the headboard and laced his fingers behind his head. “You thought I was serious? Give me a break, Fuery. You’re nice and all, but it’s not like I wanted to marry you or anything.” 

“… Oh. Okay then,” Fuery said with a sigh of relief. A blush crept into his cheeks.  “If you still want to… you know… do _this_ …  it’s okay with me.”

“I bet it is,” Jean responded. “This _has_ been putting a cramp in my style. I’ve had to turn down a lot of ass since you started coming around.”

Fuery let out a small, nervous laugh. “I guess I won’t be in your way anymore.”

“I guess not. It's late. You should get going.” Jean reached over the edge of the bed and grabbed a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from the floor. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Fuery walked over to the bedroom door. “Jean--”

“Lock the door behind you.” Jean jammed a cigarette between his teeth.  “Thanks.”

“Goodnight.” 

“See ya.”

As soon as Fuery left,  Jean took the cigarette out if his mouth and crushed it in his fist. For the first time ever, he had no desire to smoke.

*****

Lou Armstrong settled into a large leather chair with a glass of red wine and a cigar. Most of his fellow officers knew nothing about the more refined side of him, preferring to see him as a no-necked behemoth who grunted and muscled his way through his career and his life, and using his brawn to get what he wanted.  They knew nothing of the man who savored fine Merlot, enjoyed the soothing sound of classical music, and cherished a good, albeit contraband, cigar. 

“Izumi Curtis,” he said to the empty living room, thinking about the things she had revealed to him. 

Although years of police training allowed him to deduce that everything she had told him was the truth, he still had a hard time believing that she was capable of all the things she admitted doing. But he also knew that appearances could be deceptive. The woman he spoke with tonight was frighteningly pale and gaunt, and seemed incapable of such a grotesque extent of physical abuse. 

_So are you going to arrest me now?_

Even if he had wanted to, the fact remained that by law, he couldn’t. But given her wasted condition--as well as the rush of blood that had sprayed from her mouth when she was ambushed by a coughing spell- -Lou could not help but think that perhaps the woman had already received her judgment.

She was no longer a threat to Edward Elric or anyone else. She was too busy dying.

But as for the husband, the one who had done those sick and deplorable things to an innocent teenager, he would most certainly atone--for that, _and_ his actions against Roy. Lou had a few ideas about what he might do, ideas that weren't exactly standard operating procedure. But ultimately,  legalities meant nothing when it came to his loyalty.

It was an Armstrong trait, after all. One that spanned the course of generations.

*****

Winry genuinely believed that Al’s head might explode if his face turned any redder than it already was. And it made her like him even more.

“Come on, Al, what do you think?” she asked, sliding across the sofa and nudging him in the arm.

“I don’t _know_ , stop asking me that!” Al buried his reddened face in both hands. The young woman took advantage of the opportunity by running her fingers through his hair and playing it off as a platonic gesture. Luckily for her, he was completely clueless about her true intentions.

“All I’m saying is that it’s easy for Ed. He knows you’re straight, so who’s putting what _where_ isn’t really a question with you. What’s so wrong with wondering if he’s the one giving or taking? If he were my brother, I’d want to know.”

“Well, I don’t want to know.” 

“Are you grossed out because he's with a man?”

Al emphatically shook his head. “Of _course_ not. I just don’t care _how_ he’s doing it as long as he’s happy.”

Winry smiled kindly. She leaned against the teen, touching her shoulder to his and staring into his blushing face. “You’re so sweet.” 

Al's phone chimed a tune that she recognized from a popular television show. He glanced down at his caller ID and smiled. Winry took the hint and moved back, giving him space.

“Hi Martel.” The lovesick teen stood up and paced around the cramped living room. “Everything’s okay… He’s with Roy right now… They're totally doing it... I’m at Winry’s apartment… She’s Ed’s friend… What?  _No,_ she’s way older than me… Well, yeah, I know you are too, but I _love_ you. Oh, shit--I just said that out loud, didn't I?”

“Way older, huh?” Winry muttered.

Understanding that she was outmatched, she went into her bedroom and grabbed a spare pillow and blanket. She placed the bedding on the sofa and excused herself as Al made numerous sappy declarations of love and affection to the girl on the other end of the line. She wondered if there would ever come a day when she was able to bring such a look of joy to a man's face.

With a forlorn sigh, she flopped down onto her frilly pink bed and buried her face into the pillow, trying to figure out her inexplicable and unrequited crushes on guys with the last name of Elric.

*****

The two lovers could barely be troubled to take more than a few token bites of their dinner before they retired to the couch to engage in a second round of lovemaking. They wanted to take advantage since their time alone was limited. There would be plenty of time to eat when Al arrived, if the teen managed not to scarf everything down for himself.

They were stretched out on the living room couch. Roy eased Ed's zipper down over the swell of his erection, then took him in hand and stroked. Ed fucked up into Roy's fist, his breathing quick and ragged, never taking his eyes off the man he loved. Although he was hardly experienced, at least when it came to sex with someone he actually loved, Ed couldn't imagine anything more erotic than this--staring into Roy's eyes while the man's hand pleasured him in a way that his own hand never could. 

He felt a surge of heat spread throughout his entire body, starting at the pit of his groin and radiating through every limb, and he bit his bottom lip in a futile attempt at silence. It was even more difficult when Roy's other hand slid beneath his shirt and started rubbing at his abdomen. Roy draped a leg over him and bucked his hips, grinding his erection against him, harder and faster until--

_“ANYBODY HOME?”_

“Shit!” Ed jumped up and frantically shoved his cock back into his pants, his heart racing. He made a beeline for the other side of the living room, as if that would somehow absolve them from any perceived wrongdoing.

Roy did his own quick self-adjustment. “That prick,” he growled, glaring in the direction of the uninvited guest's voice.

“What?” Ed asked, his face flushed from embarrassment.

The older man shook his head to indicate that the insult was not directed at him. Right on cue, Jean Havoc came barging into the living room from the kitchen, where he’d let himself in using Roy’s spare key. Roy could see that the gym teacher, while not exactly drunk, had a hard time walking without using the wall for support every few steps.

“What the hell, Jean?” Roy was using his principal voice, low and stern and--Ed thought--sexy as hell.

Jean regarded the couple with a lopsided grin. He ran a hand over his unkempt hair. “Oh shit, I’m sorry. I forgot the kid was here.” Turning to Ed, Jean added, “Hey kid.”

“Mr. Havoc,” Ed said in a clipped voice, calling to mind their last meeting.

“I think we’re past the point of honorifics.” Jean sat down on the couch much to Roy and Ed’s displeasure. How long was he planning to stick around?

“Jean,” Roy said carefully, sensing that something was not right with his ex, but also desperate to resume what he and Ed had been doing. “I thought you were with…” He paused, unsure if Jean wanted Ed to know about him and Fuery. “I thought you had plans tonight?”

“He dumped me.”

“What?”

“He fucked me and then he dumped me. Can you believe that shit? _Me_.” Jean sighed and leaned back into the couch. Roy and Ed exchanged glances, resigning themselves to the fact that it would be awhile before they were able to continue.

“Um… I’m gonna let you guys talk,” Ed said uncomfortably, motioning toward the stairway. “Goodnight Mist-- _Jean_.”

Jean gave Ed a token glance, too caught up in his own self-pitying to do much else. “See you later, kid. And don’t worry, I won’t stay too long. You’ll be busting your nut soon enough.”

Before Ed could think of a suitable response, Roy punched the man hard in the arm. “Watch your mouth,” he warned. With that, the teen smiled and bounded up the stairs while Jean rubbed his arm and pouted.

“You still hit like a girl,” he said. “Besides, I was just kidding. Got any beer?”

“Yes, I do,” Roy replied. “But you’re drinking coffee.”

*****

Sig had wet himself.

Not because of any bladder mishap, but because for the past hour, he’d done nothing but refresh the leaking bag of ice nestled in his groin. He knew he should go to the hospital, and had actually made up his mind to do so a few times before deciding against it. His pride currently outweighed his need for a properly functioning pair of testicles and he refused to hobble into the emergency room and reveal what Ed had done to him.

Having quickly forgotten his earlier fear of the teen’s uncharacteristically callous words, Sig sat there, seething in the swamp of melted ice and body sweat that had transformed the bed into a soggy mess. He would have to urinate soon and figured he may as well add that to the mix; it beat having to walk, which was pure agony.

He knew that he was beaten. He knew that tomorrow he would have to walk into that hearing room and denounce his so-called suspicions about Roy. If he didn’t, Ed would talk. There was a time when the large man didn’t think the boy would ever have it in him to do such a thing. For years, Sig had been able to… _come and go_ … as he pleased.  If anything, Sig's abuse had caused the teen to become even more withdrawn and despondent and the man had wasted no time in taking advantage of the situation as much as possible. But _this_ Ed… Sig had no choice but to believe that _this_ Ed had no qualms whatsoever about telling the world what he did. 

He would never be rich. He would never be famous. But he certainly didn’t want to be known as a pervert, either. 

Since it turned out that he was actually right about the boy and that prick Mustang, Sig briefly considered how it would best work to his advantage in the event that Ed did decide to report him. But there was no way, no one, no jury or judge who would ever deem Roy’s ‘crime’ worse than his own, especially since he could no longer count on Izumi to corroborate him. He was usually ready and willing to cut off his nose to spite his own face, but not like this. 

And so, he would take a step back and wait. Perhaps for a month. Perhaps for a year. Maybe even disappear for a little while and wait for Izumi to kick the bucket. But there was one thing that Sig Curtis knew for certain:

He wasn’t finished yet. Not by a long shot.

*****

“Would you stop moping? It’s weird,” Roy said, walking a slightly more sober Jean to the door.

“ _You’re_ weird,” Jean shot back, ever the model of maturity.

Roy stared at his friend, enemy, employee, and ex-lover. “Are you okay?” he asked softly.

Jean nodded. “Yeah. I just…” He shook his head, thinking of how to go on. “I don’t get it. All of the people I’ve ever fucked just for shits and giggles, I can’t get rid of them. But any time I’ve ever actually _wanted_ to be with someone, they can’t leave me soon enough.”

Roy sighed and stared at the ground, knowing that the bulk of that comment was meant for him. 

“Say goodnight to the kid for me.” Jean opened the door and stepped outside. He stared at Roy, visibly struggling with what he was about to say next. “You two… you’re good together."  His voice was quiet and honest, if somewhat defeated.

Roy smiled gratefully. “Thank you.”

Jean popped a cigarette between his lips--his first one since Fuery's announcement. He lit it and took a long drag. “No need to get vaginal over it, tough guy. Oh, and if you’re going to be crazy enough to let him stay here for the weekend with all of this shit going on, at least have enough sense to keep your doors locked.  You don't want anyone walking in on the two of you,” he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the spare key.

“The doors _were_ locked,” Roy reminded him, snatching it away and shoving it in his pocket. 

“Yeah, well…” Jean shrugged and smirked. “Go have sex. I’ll see you later.”

“Goodnight,” Roy said, rolling his eyes and shutting the door.

Both men stood on their respective sides of the door for a moment, contemplating the hellishly misplaced path that had led them to this often troublesome, but ultimately irreplaceable friendship.  They turned around and went their separate ways--Roy, upstairs to join Ed, and Jean, sobered up and out into the night… where he would shortly hook up with a hot young gas station attendant who filled him up in more ways than one.

*****

Ed was playing solitaire. Much better than his boyfriend ever could. He looked up when Roy entered the office. “Better now?”

“Yeah.” Roy sat down on the floor next to Ed's chair and crossed his legs, smiling serenely.

“What is it?” the teen asked, not quite sure of what to make of Roy’s expression, even though he adored it all the same.

“He says we’re good together.”

“I guess that’s a major compliment coming from him,” Ed said cheekily.

Roy shook his head. “Not so much a compliment, but… an admission, I guess.”

"He still loves you."

The older man considered the statement.  "I think that he believes he does."

"What do _you_ think?"

"I think he's just trying to find what we're all looking for.  Even though he'd rather die than admit it."  
   
Ed nodded in understanding. “We really _are_ good together, aren’t we?” 

“Are you kidding? We’re  _great_ together.” Roy took him by the hand. “Edward?”

“Yes?”

“Will you still love me when I’m a registered sex offender?” Roy's tone was playful but his eyes were serious, and it made Ed wish he’d kicked Sig even harder. 

“It won’t come to that. I won't _let_ it.” He pulled Roy’s hand up to his face and nuzzled his cheek against it. “I refuse to believe that we’ve been through all of this shit for nothing.” 

Ed decided that he would tell Roy about his visit with Sig when he was certain that the man had held up his end of the bargain. He knew that Roy would be not pleased to discover that he had put himself in harm’s way.  And since it would most likely lead to their very first argument,  he wanted to prolong it as much possible... though if need be, he wouldn't hesitate to kick Sig's ass again, a thousand times over.  And he would gladly bear Roy's wrath as long as everything worked out. 

He jumped out of the chair and tackled Roy on the ground, lying on top of him and burying his face in the older man’s neck, breathing in the scent of his cologne that drove him crazy. Both of their bodies immediately responded to the contact, and in a matter of moments they picked up right where they had left off.

Apparently, the carpet was not nearly as much of an inconvenience to clean as the comforter.

*****

The elderly motel clerk had never seen anyone so huge in all her life. The sight of the large man so terrified her that she would have given him the keys to _anyone’s_ room, even if he hadn’t been a cop.

It was none of her business. Best to just put it all out of her mind. Still, she couldn’t help but wonder what the officer wanted with the fat man in room 322. 

“I have a feeling I wouldn’t want to be you right about now, Sig Curtis,” she said to herself, stepping away from the counter and going into the back to prepare instant coffee, watered down orange juice, and day old donuts for the morning’s continental breakfast. 

Her shift was coming to an end by the time the early bird guests started coming down to the lobby for their food, and the strange late night visit had slipped her mind altogether in the bustle of the morning shift change.

Had she remembered the incident to mention to her relief, they might have been more concerned that Sig, who was like clockwork when it came to free food, never came down for breakfast.


	26. Back to Life

Roy glanced at the clock and saw that it was just past ten. For the past hour, all he had been able to do was lie there and stare at the blond head that rested on his chest, keeping his breathing smooth and even so as not to disturb, and wishing that the morning would never have to come to an end. During moments like this, he did not think it impossible to memorize every single strand of hair, from the ponytail that Ed wore to the stubborn cowlick that Roy loved more than any man should love a lock of unruly hair.

If by some miracle he got out of his current career dilemma unscathed, he would have to have a long talk with the teen about the future, both as individuals _and_ a couple. The miles between them now were bad enough; while Roy had every confidence that the distance was not enough to break their bond, he also didn’t want to continue living so far away from the teen after he graduated. But what were they to do when his job was here and Ed’s home was there? And then there was Al to take into consideration. While Roy would have never dreamed of being so selfish as to ask Ed to move back for his sake, he had a very good idea of what the teen’s decision would be if he did _._  

He could always move there. It was a thought that had occasionally floated through his mind since putting the house up for sale. While he might not be able to find a principal’s position easily, he had been a teacher first and foremost, and good ones were always in high demand.

Decisions, decisions. Entirely too many decisions. 

Oh well. There was little he could do about it now, except tighten his hold around the body that clung to him and revel in the moment while it lasted.

He shifted his hips slightly, not wanting to make too much motion that would wake Ed, but at the same time so hard that it was becoming bothersome. That he was hard at all was a feat unto itself, as they had made love throughout the night and well into dawn, from soft and sweet to hard and frantic, and every which way in between, to the point where it was finally a physical impossibility for them to continue. Roy never thought he had it in him to keep up with the teenager, let along recharge so quickly. It was as if his body insisted on absorbing as much of Ed’s as humanly possible, enough to last him through the droughts of their time apart. 

Just as he was taking himself to task for being a horny old man, he gasped in surprise when a hand closed around him and started stroking.

“How long have you been awake?” He closed his eyes and concentrated on Ed’s touch, raising his hips to meet each pump of the hand.

“About fifteen minutes,” Ed rasped in reply, thrusting his own morning wake up call against Roy’s thigh. “But I was _up_ long before that.”

Roy grinned. “I noticed. It must have been one hell of a dream.” He opened his eyes and pushed Ed onto his back, kicking the comforter to the foot of the bed. He proceeded to kiss every inch of the teen’s body from the neck down, paying special attention to his chest and the strangely sensitive area where skin and automail met. 

Ed’s moaning escalated into cries as Roy took him into his mouth--

_\--we’re really going to have to work on that once Al gets here--_

\--and proceeded to suck him gently, lapping away at him with his tongue. Ed’s hand, which had initially been reluctant whenever Roy would pleasure him in that way, now boldly rested on his head as he pumped his hips, pushing himself into the older man’s mouth with short, controlled thrusts. 

Roy finally pulled away, prompting an adorably disappointed moan from the teen. He quickly reached over the edge of the bed and grabbed the bottle of lube that had been placed there for quick access during the night. He squirted a generous amount of the cool semi-liquid into his hand and closed it, rubbing his fingers against his palm to warm it. When he was done, he closed his hand around Ed and began stroking the liquid onto him.

Ed looked up at Roy in surprise; he was not expecting the lube to go there. But his shock quickly yielded to his pleasure as he thrust into Roy’s slick fist, crying out each time the man’s hand came down around him.

When Roy sensed the teen was nearing his limit, he pulled his hand away, and again, heard the disappointed moan. So cute. What was even cuter, he found, was Ed’s mixed expression of confusion, fear, and anticipation as he straddled the teen’s thighs, poised just above the erection which was grasped firmly in his hand. 

Roy smiled tenderly at Ed, using his free hand to give his leg a reassuring rub before slowing easing his way down, rocking his hips as he moved lower... and lower... until... 

*****

_I’m inside of Roy. Oh my God._

*****

… he’d taken Ed’s length completely inside of himself. It felt so good to Roy, so right. When Ed started trembling uncontrollably, he leaned forward on one palm and used the other to caress the teen’s face.

“Ed? Are you okay?”

Ed could only nod shakily in reply and Roy smiled again, loving him even more. It wasn’t that Ed  _wasn’t_ okay, it was just the first time that he had ever been in the position of giving as opposed to receiving. Roy truly wanted him to be comfortable either way, as he was, because he didn't want any aspect of their relationship to be one-sided.

Never taking his eyes off of Ed’s face, Roy began to move up and down Ed’s cock, trying to remain calm himself as his own pleasure was quickly peaking. He kept up at the slow, agonizing pace, even as he felt every muscle in the body beneath him contract sharply. Gradually, he moved faster, faster still, until Ed gripped him tightly about the hips and came, bucking into the man’s body with so much force that both of them were momentarily lifted off of the bed.

Ed’s cries finally dissipated and he shuddered helplessly under Roy, covering his blushing face with both hands and turning his head to the side. “I’m so sorry. What was that, like two seconds? I-It’s just that I never…” the embarrassed teen tried to explain.

Roy moved Ed’s hands and silenced him with a kiss. He planted kisses over every inch of the teen’s face before moving down to his ears and neck, continuing there with soft pecks, nibbles, and licks, rubbing and stroking his chest and stomach with his hands until he soon felt Ed harden inside of him again. 

Ah, to be young.

He pulled back and sat up, looking down at Ed’s red face. It was so very beautiful.

“Wh-what should I do?” the teen asked shyly, terrified of another unsatisfactory performance. 

Roy took his left hand and guided it down around him. “Touch me.”

And so he did.

This time, he lasted _much_ longer than two seconds.

*****

Inside the massive boardroom of the school district office, Superintendent Bradley calmly tapped his fingers on top of the table. 

He was normally a soft-spoken and patient man, very slow to anger. While this morning was no usual exception, he _was_ somewhat displeased with being made to wait on the man whose accusation worried him for a number of reasons, the main one being that he simply could not believe Roy Mustang would ever abuse his hard-earned position to take advantage of a student. Something didn’t sit right with him about the large man named Sig Curtis, but it was his responsibility to thoroughly investigate the matter, regardless of his personal opinion.

“Well gentlemen,” he said, looking at the clock on the wall with his one good eye. The other one was artificial, and an astonishingly convincing one at that. “Why don’t we give Mr. Curtis ten more minutes before we make a phone call--”

The doors to the boardroom opened and a large man did indeed enter the room. But not the one they were waiting for.

“This is a closed meeting,” one of the board members began, visibly awed by the presence in the doorway. 

“Alex? Little Alex Armstrong, is that you?” Bradley asked, standing up and approaching him.

“Yes, sir.” Lou stepped inside of the room. He was dressed in plain clothes as he had taken the day off from work just for this.

“It’s good to see you, son,” Bradley said, shaking Lou’s hand. “Gentlemen, this is Officer Alex Louis Armstrong. Our families go back for quite some time,” he explained to the room.

“Hello,” Lou said to the roomful of gaping mouths. 

The superintendent turned back to the colossal man and patted him on the arm. “I’d love to catch up, Alex, but we’re about to have a rather important meeting--”

“Actually, that’s why I’m here, sir.” Lou stared gravely at the older man. “It’s extremely important that I speak with all of you right away regarding one Sig Curtis and, with all due respect, the irreparable mistake this board is about to make.”

*****

“You have suffered a fractured orbital rim and dislocated lens of the right eye.”

_I want you to tend to your wounds…_

“A broken nose.”

_… and leave this city._

“Three broken teeth.”

_For good._

“A dislocated left shoulder.”

_If you ever come back…_

“A fracture of the fourth and fifth rib.”

_… I won’t arrest you._

 “And your right testicle will need to be removed.” 

_They'll never find your body._

The doctor looked up from his clipboard and studied the grotesque man lying in the hospital bed. “Mr. Curtis. Are you going to continue to insist that _walking into a door_ caused you to sustain each and every one of these injuries?”

_Do you understand, Sig?_

The battered man glared at the doctor with one functioning eye. “That’s right,” he croaked. “Now just fix me so I can get the fuck out of here.”

*****

“What I have shared with all of you is strictly off the record, of course,” Lou concluded, sitting at the table and looking at the faces of the stunned men seated around him. “The only reason I am doing so--with great risk to my own career, might I add--is to save this board the inevitable scandal of firing a renowned educator based on the word of a suspected sex offender. With all of the talk of a possible teachers' strike that has been in the news lately, this type of bad publicity is the last thing you need.”

“It would be a disaster,” one member said. The others murmured in agreement. 

“I understand that you have to take each of these instances seriously until proven otherwise. But I also believe that Mr. Mustang’s exemplary record of service speaks for itself. At the very least, I think it carries more weight than the words of an ethically challenged man who has abused the foster care system for his own perversions and gains. He obviously knew that we were getting closer to obtaining the evidence we needed in our investigation of him, especially with supporting testimony from his wife, and now he has fled for his freedom. That should be proof enough of the lack of sincerity behind his accusations.” 

Superintendent Bradley ran his hands through his black hair and let out a large sigh. “Jesus,” he said. “Well… I have to thank you, Alex, for taking such a chance on coming here in person to tell us these things. Off the record, of course.” He rose to his feet and walked the big man to the door. “This is the last thing we need, especially in this election season.”

“Yes, sir,” Lou agreed. “Thank you for your time,” he said, nodding to the others in the room.

“Say hello to your father for me.” Bradley opened the door. “Goodbye, son.”

“Goodbye, sir,” Lou said, nodding again and stepping into the corridor.

The superintendent closed the door and leaned against it. “I want Mustang back in his office on Monday and I want his leave of absence wiped from his employee record,” he said, immediately going into damage-control mode. “Let’s throw some money his way, too, for those gymnasium improvements he’s been asking for. Oh, and find a principal’s conference. Somewhere warm and sunny.”

One of the board members spoke up. “But the budget, sir--”

“We were ready to fire the man because a pervert told us to,” Bradley said in a rare flash of anger. “Don’t argue with me. Just make it happen.” 

He waited quietly for any further objections. There were none.

“Meeting adjourned,” he said pleasantly, walking out of the room in search of the nearest phone.

*****

“You know what I want?” Roy asked.

“What do you want?” Ed responded.

“I want to be able to take you out to lunch one day. Here in town. Somewhere nice.”

The teenager grinned. “That’d be wonderful, Roy, but I don’t think there are many places out there that would let us eat like this.”

They were naked on the living room couch, wrapped only in a thin sheet, with a plate of pasta between them. “You might be right,” Roy agreed, picking up a long strand of spaghetti and feeding it to Ed, reaching over to lick the sauce off his chin.

Before he could begin licking other things, the phone rang. At first, he contemplated not answering it, as the only person he expected to hear from that day was Jean. But at the last moment, he decided to grab it. He glanced at the caller ID and felt a stab of fear.  

“Hello?” he answered, quickly placing a finger to his lips so that Ed would know not to speak. “Yes, sir… Yes… Okay.” 

Ed shoved a forkful of food into his mouth and watched a smile blossom on Roy’s face. 

“Thank you, sir… Yes, sir… Goodbye.” Roy ended the call and sat back, still smiling. 

“Good news?” Ed asked through a mouthful of pasta.

“Very good news. I’m going back to work on Monday.”

“I told you everything was going to be okay.” Despite what he had done, Ed had doubted whether or not the fat bastard would actually come through. Now that his life was finally in a good place, a _damn_ good place, and he had put the darker things behind him, he really hadn’t wanted to go through the ordeal of dredging it back up. Although he would have. For Roy, he would have done it in a heartbeat. 

“I wonder what happened,” Roy mused. 

“It doesn’t really matter, does it?” Ed asked, not wanting to tell a blatant lie by claiming ignorance. He held a bite of pasta to Roy’s lips. “Open.”

The older man obediently opened his mouth and accepted the food. “You’re right,” he said, chewing slowly. 

“You’ll come to find out that I usually am,” Ed said with a smug grin. He picked up the plate and eased his way onto Roy’s lap. Digging out a piece of spaghetti, he held it up to Roy’s mouth and took the other end for himself. They nibbled their way toward each other, ala _Lady and the Tramp_ , and softly kissed each other as their lips finally met. 

Ed broke away and looked at him. After a moment, he laughed. “Again?” he asked, feeling a stirring beneath him.

Roy shrugged. “Good news makes me horny,” he said, taking the plate from Ed and setting it onto the floor before pulling the teen in for another kiss.

Yet another meal that would have to wait.

*****

Later that evening, Izumi Curtis stood in her doorway, trying to make sense out of what she was seeing.

“What did you say?” she asked. 

“Dinner,” Lou replied, holding up the bags of takeout from a nearby restaurant. “I was hoping you might like to have it with me.”

The woman’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Why?”

“Because I’m indebted to you for coming to me with the truth about your husband,” Lou answered. While it was a good enough reason, it wasn’t necessarily true.

In reality, he had no idea at all why he was compelled to see her again. Gratitude… concern… pity… curiosity… all of the above. Lou genuinely did not know. The only thing he knew for certain was that he wanted to. And that was reason enough.

After a moment of consideration, Izumi stood to the side, coughing into her hand as Lou walked into the house.

*****

“Uno!”

“Al, you have to have _one_ _card left_ to yell ‘uno’ or else it defeats the purpose of the game,” Ed said, concentrating on his hand of colored cards.

“Whatever,” the teen said, scrunching up his nose. “Preach to me about rules when you stop cheating at everything.”

“Hey, Al, look at this.”

The teen looked in his brother’s direction.

“Roy! Ed’s flipping me off!”

Roy closed the oven door and turned around, watching the brothers as they sat at the kitchen table. “Edward,” he said with mock sternness. 

“Yes, dear?” Ed blinked innocently. 

Al rolled his eyes. “Great. He makes with the pretty eyes and gets his way.”

“Sorry, Al,” Roy said with a grin.

“Somebody’s whipped,” Al muttered into his hand, drawing a card off the deck. 

Roy’s laughter rang through the kitchen as he stepped away from the stove. “Look who’s talking,” he shot back. He went over to the table and placed a kiss on top of Ed’s head. “I’ll be right back,” he said.

“Okay,” Ed replied, still deciding on his best strategy… short of pulling out the extra “Draw Four” cards he had stashed under his thigh.

Roy ruffled Al’s hair as he walked past him and out of the kitchen. He went through the living room and exited the house through the front door.

*****

The evening air was crisp and cool. Roy walked across the front lawn in his bare feet, wiggling his toes in the well-manicured grass. 

He turned around and took a good, long look at his home, the home he had made with Maes, the home that had seen more than its fair share of joy and pain. 

Roy had no idea what his future with Ed would bring. All he knew was that for the time being, this place, this home, was where he wanted to remain. He wanted to create memories here with Ed. He wanted to hear more of Al’s laughter. He wanted a life here, where the old had passed away but would always be in his heart, ushering in the new. Until such a time when his future with Ed might lead him elsewhere, there was no other place in the world he would rather be.

He walked over to the “For Sale” sign and gripped it tightly, working it back and forth until the earth finally released it. Of course he still had to call the realtor and withdraw the house from the market, but for now, this would do. 

Tucking the sign under his arm, Roy walked back into the house and rejoined his new family in the kitchen, just in time to catch Ed pulling cards from under his thigh like the cheater he was. 


	27. Paradox

_“Oh Roy! OH ROY!!!”_

From his front row seat on the bed, Roy watched his devious lover with subdued amusement as he stood by the wall that divided the two adjoining bedrooms, yelling out feigned cries of pleasure in an effort to permanently scar his younger brother. 

“Right there, Roy… _Oh yeah!!_ ”

A chuckle fell from the older man’s mouth, prompting Ed to turn around and place a chastising finger to his lips to silence him. Roy held up his hands in apology, unable to curb the smile that lit his face. Ed smiled in return, a gorgeous and natural thing that warmed Roy to the core, before turning back to the wall.

“Oh… Oh… _OHHHHHHHH!!!!_ ” Ed cried out, slapping at the wall with an open metal hand for added emphasis. 

Roy shook his head and closed his eyes, leaning back into his pillow. He found that while he was still quite uplifted by his own sense of happiness over this new chapter of his life, he was even happier for Ed, who had finally found peace after so many years of darkness. To hear him laughing and joking around with his brother… that was something he would never grow tired of experiencing. 

A light, timid knock interrupted his thoughts and Ed’s fake orgasmic yelps. The teen paused and stared questioningly at the door, his hand raised in mid-air as Roy chuckled again.

“Come in, Al!” he called out, now grinning openly at Ed’s failed attempts.

Al poked his head through the door. “Hey, Roy, is it okay if I make something to eat?”

“You don’t have to ask, Al. Help yourself to whatever’s in the fridge.” 

The young teen smiled sweetly. “Thanks.” He looked to his older and questionably more mature brother. “Man, for Roy’s sake, I hope you’re better in bed than you pretend to be,” he said cheekily, quickly shutting the door before Ed recovered from the shock of the bold statement.

“That little bastard.” Ed scowled, turning to look into Roy’s smiling face. “What the hell are you laughing at?”

“Nothing,” Roy said, his lips pursed to keep from laughing. He patted the empty space beside him. “Come here.”

Ed stalked over to the bed and hopped in, wrapping his body around Roy’s chest and legs. The older man was still smiling, amused and intrigued by the temperamental side of his partner. He found himself looking forward to future battles of wit between the Elric brothers… and had to admit that his money would probably always be on the younger one. 

Not that he would ever say that to Ed.

He let go of Ed long enough to turn off the bedside lamp. He sighed deeply, fully at peace for the first time since the accusation that had nearly cost him his career, and tightened his hold around the flesh and metal body that clung to him. 

He wasn’t a fool; he knew that things would not always be this perfect. But for now, he just wanted to revel in these moments... with no way of knowing that they would have their first real argument the very next day.

*****

After a hacking fit that lasted a full minute, Jean popped a cigarette into his mouth and swung his feet over the edge of the bed. He lit up and puffed away, and watched as sunlight slipped in through the bedroom curtains and cut through the haze of smoke that quickly filled the air. He frowned when he felt the body behind him shift, dreading the distasteful task of awkward morning-after conversation with someone whom, in hindsight, he kind of wished he’d never invited home.

It had seemed like a really good idea at the time… well, rather, the _only_ idea at the time. He had needed to get laid in the worst way and he adamantly refused to call Kain Fuery for sex--his ego could only withstand so much and groveling was something that he would never do. So he had turned on the charm and ended up with yet _another_ co-worker to add to the long list of conquests he’d accumulated over the years. 

“This is gonna be so weird,” he whispered to himself, exhaling a stream of smoke through his nostrils.

The body behind him shifted again. He felt a hand press against his back and had to force himself not to move away. 

“Did you say something?” 

“No,” Jean said, sucking down a quarter of the cigarette in one go. “Why don’t you go back to sleep? I don’t mind,” he added, even though he did, just a little bit.

“Nah, I’m up.” The hand on his back moved over to his right side, gently rubbing his outer thigh. “Have you seen my glasses?”

Jean turned and looked down at Sheska, who had quite the spectacular body beneath the conservative outfits she always wore at work. “I think they’re over in the corner,” he said, motioning toward a far wall of the bedroom and recalling how they had flown from her face during a rather intense round of fucking. 

His ex-lover’s secretary blushed and smiled, as if remembering the same incident. “Oh yeah,” she replied before giggling into her hand. 

Jean smiled reluctantly. Okay, so she was kind of cute. She had a decent personality. She was a bit geeky, so it wasn’t as if guys would be falling all over her. Then there was the fag hag factor; the woman had practically drooled over him and Roy when they were together--so much for keeping their relationship a secret--and Jean suspected that she was probably beside herself having now indirectly fucked her boss.

He didn’t have to be in love with her to have sex with her. Fucking her definitely took his mind off Fuery. 

That aside, she worked in the school office, so it wasn’t as if he had to see her _all_ the time. 

And the hand rubbing his thigh really wasn’t all that bad.

Jean put out his smoke and allowed himself to be pulled back into the bed, grateful for the newest diversion that fell into his lap by way of the naked woman now climbing onto it.

*****

Officer Lou Armstrong squeezed his infinite mass into a booth at a local mom and pop diner, waiting for Roy to arrive. He was nervous--an emotion he rarely ever experienced--and asked himself for about the hundredth time if he was sure he wanted to do what he was about to do. But since there was no way to talk to the teen directly without sparking Roy’s curiosity anyway, he had little choice.

It was going to cause trouble between them; there was no doubt in his mind about that. However, if his friend’s young lover insisted on handling his problems the way that he handled his foster father, then he was in for a world of future troubles, no matter how noble the motive. It was only by a series of miracles that his actions thus far hadn’t been discovered by anyone other than him; there was no way the kid would continue to be so lucky. 

True, his own actions against Sig could have been considered deplorable had the victim been anyone else. But Lou Armstrong was a cop. A cop from a long, distinguished lineage of law enforcement officials in good standing with every influential member of the local government. Edward Elric was a seventeen-year-old outcast with two potentially destructive weapons posing as appendages. There was a world of difference between them. For Roy’s sake, Lou did not want to see the young man use his detrimental attributes for violence.   

And so, for that reason, it had come to this. 

Upon hearing the pleasant jingling of the overhead door, Lou looked up and spotted Roy smiling in his direction. Lou waved and smiled in return, noting the sheer glow of happiness on his friend’s face. After losing Maes and Elysia so soon, and then dealing with Havoc’s insufferable torment (which had almost prompted him to pay the gym teacher a special visit as well), Lou was overjoyed to see Roy in such good spirits. 

As Roy approached the table, Lou made a quick mental reminder to refrain from mentioning anything about his interactions with Izumi. Not by his own choice, but rather the woman’s own request, which he respectfully agreed to honor--even if he wasn’t exactly clear as to why she wanted it that way. Maybe she would shed some light on her reasoning over dinner tonight.

*****

Al tapped the blackened lump on his plate that had, in its past life, been the makings of a grilled cheese sandwich. While the smoke had finally dissipated, the kitchen was still filled with the acrid smell of burnt food.

“Ed?” He watched his brother hunch over the stove, spatula in hand, trying earnestly to make another sandwich.

“I got it,” the teen insisted, assaulting the pan with the spatula. 

“It’s not too late to order something,” Al suggested hopefully.

“Al, we can’t live on fast food and take out,” Ed said.

“Yeah, well we can’t live on this either,” the teen mumbled under his breath, pushing the plate away from him. “When’s Roy coming home?” he asked, changing the subject from the culinary atrocities taking place before his eyes.

Ed shrugged. “Not sure,” he said, wondering the same thing. 

He’d had a small, faint feeling of uneasiness since Roy had told him he was meeting with his cop friend, the same one who had pulled him over. The big man. Ed never considered the possibility that Sig would have reported him to the police; he wagered guys like that would never go so far as to admit to having their asses kicked by someone of Ed’s stature. And it wasn’t as if the fat bastard had died--he would have heard about it if that had been the case. 

No, it was probably nothing. They were friends, after all, so it was perfectly normal for them to get together and shoot the breeze. 

Even so, Ed could not shake the feeling that something was wrong.

*****

Very wrong, as it turned out.

“Roy!” Al beamed from the living room sofa an hour later, relieved that Roy--and his means of getting a real meal--had finally come home. 

“Hey, Al,” Roy said, pleasantly enough. He stopped long enough to ruffle Al’s brown hair, smiling wearily. “Did you guys eat?” 

The younger Elric scrunched his nose. “We tried. But Ed cooked.”

Roy grinned tiredly. “I can smell.”

“Hey, it was mostly edible,” Ed said in his defense. There was a teasing edge to his voice even as his eyes searched Roy’s face for any possible clue into his meeting with Officer Armstrong.   

Roy fished his wallet out of his pants and pulled out two twenty dollar bills. “Order something,” he instructed Al. 

“Sweet! Thanks, Roy!” Al was too preoccupied with the promise of food delivery to sense the seriousness in the older man’s voice.

“Ed? Can I talk to you for a minute?” Roy met Ed’s gaze and waited patiently for a reply.

“… Yeah, sure.” Ed swallowed hard, certain that his heart was about to leap out of his throat, and followed his lover out of the kitchen, up the stairs, and into the office. He felt very much the delinquent student having to report to the principal’s office, only in this case, a delinquent student who just happened to be having frequent sex with said principal.

“Is everything okay?” he asked, sitting down in a chair.

“Well, Edward, that depends on how you would define ‘okay,’” the older man said, leaning against the edge of the desk and folding his arms. “Finding out that you assaulted your foster father? That's not okay.”

Ed sighed heavily. “How did he know?”

“It doesn't matter how he knew.  How could you have done such a stu--” Roy paused, a small crease lining his forehead as he reconsidered his words. “What were you thinking?” he tried again. 

“I was thinking about  _you_ ,” Ed answered stubbornly. He was offended at being taken to task for what he perceived to be an incredibly heroic--and somewhat romantic--deed. 

Roy’s stern visage softened slightly. “And I love you for that, Ed. I really do. But I don’t want you putting yourself in harm’s way like that ever again, okay? I mean it. God only knows what would have happened to you if Sig had gotten the upper hand on you. I don’t even want to think about it. Not to mention the fact that you could have landed yourself in jail for assault, maybe even attempted murder.”

Ed bit his lip, the frown on his face growing deeper. He hadn’t expected a prize for his actions, but he also didn't feel that a lecture was in order. No matter how right Roy might have been.

It was best just to let it go. Best to leave it alone. Best not to fight. Because he loved Roy and didn’t want to argue with him. Unfortunately his mouth didn't get the memo.

“What about when you paid them off to leave me alone? You didn’t tell me about that. And it certainly wasn’t ethical, was it, _Principal_ Mustang?”

Ed’s mouth snapped shut, containing his surprisingly snippy tongue-- where the hell had _that_ come from?? 

*****

_Where the hell did that come from?_

Roy stared at his young lover as if seeing him for the first time. He hadn’t expected such a fierce wave of defiance. “That was...”

“Different?” Ed asked.

Roy’s jaw tightened. “I was trying to rescue you from a dangerous situation,” he said. “What you did had no bearing on anything--I had already been suspended.”

“I honestly can’t believe you’re bitching at me about this.” Ed stood up and began pacing around the desk. 

“If Sig had gone to the police, you’d be in jail right now.  If any other cop besides Lou had seen what you did to that man, you’d be in jail right now.  Is it really so hard for you to understand my so-called bitching?” Roy countered, genuinely stunned by Ed’s defensive behavior. 

“Whatever.” Ed jammed his hands into his pockets and glowered, something that Roy might have found adorable under almost any other circumstance. 

Roy was mildly disappointed that Ed had reverted to the standard teenager's reply when faced with questions he did not care to answer like a mature, responsible adult; it was the first time he had ever given any consideration to the behavioral aspect of their age difference… and he didn’t like what he was seeing. 

“Ed,” he said gently, patiently, already fed up with the discussion and simply wanting to make peace. “I don’t want to fight, okay? I don’t. I just want you to be safe. After everything he did to you, I wanted to hurt him myself, but we just can’t go around beating people up at will--”

_Although I’m absolutely willing to make a one time exception for what Lou did._

“--and I don’t want to see you doing stupid, reckless shit,” Roy concluded. “You’ve come so far, Edward. You’ve got too much to lose now.”

“It’s my choice,” Ed stated with finality. “If I want to ditch school to come see you--which you didn’t complain nearly as much about--or if I want to kick that piece of shit’s ass or whatever, it’s _my_ choice. You can’t tell me what to do. You’re not my fucking father.”

Roy’s shocked gasp resonated in the quiet room. 

That hurt. A lot.

*****

Ed regretted saying it the moment it flew out of his mouth.

He wanted to take it back, to take it _all_ back, desperate to make peace. He knew he’d done a risky thing. And he knew Roy was completely justified in his concern. Yet, a small, incredibly stubborn part of him refused to let him acknowledge any of it.

And so he could only stand there, speechless, as Roy stared at him with an expression that rendered meaningless all of his defiant proclamations of independence. 

“I’m not acting like your father. I’m acting like _your partner_ ,” the older man said quietly, each word a dagger to Ed’s heart. “It never occurred to me that you wouldn't be able to distinguish one from the other… and I have to wonder if you would have even said such a thing if we were closer to the same age.”

“I…” Ed was horrified by Roy’s theory… and the possibility of truth behind it.

“Forget about it.” Roy smiled sadly. “You should go downstairs and make sure Al doesn’t start eating the furniture before his food arrives. I want to get caught up on my emails before Monday. I’ll be down later.” He opened the door and waited patiently for Ed to leave the room.

Ed stood his ground for a moment--

_You really want me to leave?_

*****

_I really don’t want you to leave._

\-- before storming past Roy out of the room, stomping his way down the stairs. 

Roy closed the door and ran both of his hands over his face. They both needed some time to cool down. Afterwards, they could have a nice, long talk, clear the air, and then kiss and make up. It was as simple as that.

“Roy?”

“Come on in, Al,” Roy called out, steeling himself to explain his and Ed’s argument.

The young teen stepped into the office, his face filled with worry. “Ed just left.”

_“What?”_

“He walked out of the house and took off in the car. He looked really upset.”

“Great,” Roy muttered. “Do you have... what's her name... Winry’s number?”

Al shook his head. 

“Alright.” Roy approached the concerned young man. “Everything’s okay,” he said, not wanting to worry Al further. “He probably just wanted to take a drive around the block to clear his head, but I’ll go look for him just to be safe. Hold down the fort for me, will you?”

The sixteen-year-old nodded, mildly relieved. Roy quickly made his way down the stairs. He grabbed his keys and left the house, hoping that Ed wouldn’t get pulled over before he had a chance to find him.

At that moment, he believed that to be the worst possible thing that could happen.

*****

“You gotta be shittin’ me.”

Genz Bresslau, the fearsome thug renowned for his bullying ways, couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

That weirdo Elric, the Tin Man himself, was pulling out of a subdivision in a spiffy luxury car. 

Wait… wasn’t that where Mustang lived? He’d egged so many houses he couldn’t keep them straight anymore.

He hadn’t forgotten that day, when the little fucker had destroyed his desk in front of the whole classroom. And okay, sure, it had scared the shit right out of him. But after that came the embarrassment--it had been awhile before his friends let him live down being punked out by a short, girly-looking boy with a metal arm and leg. 

Now, lo and behold, there he was, driving around all by his lonesome. Badly, at that. And just who should happen to currently be in possession of his father’s construction truck, a truck filled with all sorts of tools and gadgets that could wreak havoc on things otherwise indestructible? 

He wasn’t stupid. After Elric’s impromptu demonstration in the classroom, he knew that the kid could royally fuck him up. But if he could just catch him with his guard down… 

He watched the car lurch its way into a convenience store parking lot and pull into a slot.

Genz smiled evilly. 

He loved it when a plan came together.  


	28. Thank You, Come Again

Ed wanted a Slushie and by God, he was going to have one.

The disgruntled teen stormed into the convenience store, ignored the gaping of the clerk and headed straight for his destination, then became even more irate when he realized he had no idea what flavor Slushie he wanted.

It was silly, of course. But concentrating on something this ridiculous was better than the alternative. He didn’t want to think about Roy, about their fight, about his anger or his remorse. Particularly his remorse. He didn’t want to feel bad or guilty, he wanted to believe that he was justified in his actions, and he certainly didn’t want to _want_ to apologize. Not yet.

“Why does there have to be a hundred goddamn flavors?” he growled, glowering at the machine. Cherry, strawberry, blue-raspberry, orange, grape, lemon-lime--was it really necessary to have this many choices? 

_you’re not my fucking father_

The teen blinked rapidly. Not because he was going to cry. He _most certainly_ was not going to cry. No matter how much he hurt all over when he thought about the look on Roy’s face as those words fell from his lips. 

Ed snatched a cup from the holder and decided to fill it with a little bit of each flavor. He placed a lid on the cup and grabbed a straw from the counter. Because he wasn’t ready to go back to Roy’s house and he couldn’t think of anywhere else to go, not to mention not wanting to take a chance driving any further into town without a license, he slowly walked the aisles, looking at the store’s insanely overpriced wares. Thankfully, not only was the place practically empty, but the aisles were blessedly secluded as well; Ed wanted to be left alone to mope in peace. 

It was hard for him not to feel a sense of urgency. He and Al were heading back home tomorrow. Who knew when he would be able to spend this much time with Roy again? He just wanted to be past this part. He wanted to spend the rest of the day and evening soaking in every inch of him. He didn’t want this conflict, not at all.

Even so, he couldn’t give in. He _wouldn’t_. He had spent far too many years of his life doing that. 

_It’s not the same…_

Deep down, Ed knew that. Roy wasn’t Sig, he wasn’t his father, he wasn’t trying _to be_ his father, and he was only voicing his concerns out of love. But even knowing so, he was stubbornly determined to save as much face as he could.

A few more minutes. He’d kill a few more minutes and then he would leave. 

Ed took a large sip of the Slushie and winced at the fruity, cold assault on his throat and stomach. He headed up an aisle stocked with potato chips and cookies, wondering if he should pick up something for Al... and completely unaware of the person lurking in the next aisle over, watching his every move.

*****

Roy pulled into the parking lot of a grocery store that was less than five minutes from his house, and only a quarter of a mile away from the convenience store where Ed was currently debating which brand of chips to get for Al and obscenely cursing the potato’s wide variety of existences. He chose an obscure parking slot at the end of a row and sat there, listening to the soothing rumble of the Mustang’s engine and trying to figure out what the hell he was doing.

He tried to think of a time, _any_ time, when he had gone blindly chasing after a lover who left in a huff, and came up with nothing. Then again, he was hard pressed to think of a time when any of them had just up and taken off in a fit of anger. And even if they had, it wasn’t as if they wouldn’t have returned home.

_Maes didn’t--_

Roy quickly cut the thought out of his mind, but not before it stung his heart. As if he needed another reason to worry about Ed’s rash behavior.

He glanced at the cell phone on the passenger seat and wondered if Ed would answer his call. He also wondered if Ed even had his phone _with_ him. In his hurry to leave the house, he hadn’t even asked Al about it. 

_Talk about being rash._

And that was the truth behind truths: Roy had been nothing _but_ rash about Ed since the beginning. Stealing the seventeen-year-old away from his foster parents, bribing them into letting him stay, starting a relationship with him--a _sexual_ relationship at that, and now, prowling the streets to find him. He hadn’t even considered what he would do if and when he did locate him; it wasn’t like they could kiss and make up in public. Oh, but if they could.

Roy shrugged off the daydream that was neither here nor there. For now, he just wanted to know that Ed was alright. There would be plenty of time to sort out the rest after that.

He picked up his phone and dialed Ed’s number. After three rings, he was convinced that Ed had indeed left his phone at the house or--even worse--chosen to ignore him, and was deciding whether or not to leave a voice message. He was so lost in his internal debate that he almost didn’t hear the teen answer.

_“… Hello?”_

“Ed?”

_“Yeah?”_

Relief surged through Roy at the sound of Ed’s tentative voice. He shut off the car to hear him more clearly and took a slow, deep breath, choosing his words carefully. The last thing he wanted was to come across as “parental.”

“Where are you?” he asked, trying to keep his voice even.

_“ I’m…  I wanted a Slushie.”_

Roy grinned. It was hard not to; it was such an Ed thing to say. “Well, I suppose that _is_ worth taking off unannounced.”

_“I’m sorry.”_

“It’s okay. I get it.”  

Not that it was something that Roy would have done himself. But he was beginning to understand why someone like Ed, who was just now coming into his own on an emotional level after a lifetime of repression, would have done such a thing. He was at a point right now where he acted on every single feeling, good or bad. 

However, given Ed’s tale of Al’s violent knee-jerk reaction to that little Tringham bastard, perhaps blind hotheadedness was just as much of an Elric trait as a hearty appetite.

Either way, Roy had a feeling that it was going to make for some interesting times down the road.

“Just… please go home when you’re done.”

_“Roy…”_

“We’ll talk then.  Okay?”

_“… Okay.”_

“I’ll see you in a little bit.”

Roy tossed the phone back on the seat and let out a huge sigh, feeling the tremendous weight of an emotional boulder lifting from his shoulders. He started the car and eased out of the parking lot and back onto the road.

_Slushies,_ the thought with a smirk. It had been years since he had enjoyed one. There was only one place he could think of within the area that sold them… and it just so happened that he would have to drive by it to get home. In fact, he could actually see the top of the store from where he sat. He wasn’t sure how he had passed it without noticing Ed’s car in the first place but now that he was fairly positive that was where he was and the dust had settled between them, Roy supposed it wouldn’t hurt to reacquaint himself with the cool, iced beverage after all.

*****

Ed pocketed his phone and smiled. Everything was going to be okay. Roy hadn’t sounded upset at all. He _did_ sound worried, and there was also poor Al to consider. Feeling even guiltier than before for disregarding his brother, Ed grabbed a can of dip to go along with the sour cream and onion chips he had grabbed. It was the least he could do. And Al would probably be more inclined to forgive him if food was involved. 

Now eager to leave and return to Roy’s house, Ed headed down the aisle and rounded the corner--

“Hey douchebag.”

*****

“Genz.” 

Ed stopped and stared at the bully. Aside from being mildly surprised that his former tormentor had finally thought of a new taunt, he felt nothing. Nothing at all. All of the old fear and hurt and anguish over the pathetic asshole standing in front of him seemed like a distant memory. It was hard for him to believe that someone so insignificant had been the primary source of his academic agony not so long ago.  

But then again, Ed had been an entirely different person not so long ago. 

Although he was determined to try and get out of the situation without having to resort to assault, he casually transferred everything he was holding to his left hand as a precaution. Away from the prying eyes of school officials, and with only a single store clerk too absorbed in online gaming to even look in their direction as a witness, anything could happen. He supposed the best thing, the safest thing, not to mention the _mature_ thing, to do was turn around and walk away. Roy and Al were waiting for him, and he didn’t want to say or do anything to cause any more trouble than he already had. 

And so he did. At least, he started to.

“So… who’s Roy?”

_Oh shit!_

*****

“The only Roy I know is Roy Mustang.” Genz leaned against a nearby rack and tapped a finger against his chin. “Wait, doesn’t he live somewhere around here?”

He knew he struck the right nerve when Ed turned around. He laughed when he saw the poorly disguised truth on the teen’s face. 

_Gotcha._

All he had originally set out to do was get in a good sucker punch or two to redeem his dignity from the little prick’s classroom display. Actually, he really wanted to do more than that, but it was a start for being in a public place. Now the possibilities were endless.

“Oh, man. This is fucking priceless,” he said. “I always knew Mustang was a faggot, but I didn’t think he was all Michael Jackson about it.  I mean, it's gross as hell either way because it's two dudes, but... you?  Seriously?"

“Shut up,” Ed warned. 

“Is he the reason you left school?”

Ed opened his mouth to speak again but noticed Genz’s gaze was drawn to something behind him.

No, not something.  

Some _one_.

*****

Roy approached the two of them and ignored, for the time being, Ed’s gawking in favor of the other teen’s smug, shit-eating grin. While he had his fair share of initial reservations over falling in love with Ed, he knew that he would have no qualms whatsoever about beating Genz Bresslau within an inch of his life. 

When he pulled into the convenience store parking lot, he realized the reason he hadn’t noticed Ed’s car when he drove by the first time was because it had been obscured from his line of sight by the Bresslau company truck. And because Roy had been so preoccupied with finding Ed, he hadn’t paid it any mind.

“I don’t care what you think you might know about me and my private life,” he started in a low, authoritative tone. “But I won’t have you involving others in your accusations against me. Do you understand?”

Genz stared, slack-jawed, at the principal; his bold presumption and hubris quickly melted away. “Are you _threatening_ me?”

“Not at all.” Roy's smile was chilling. “Now be a good boy and go home.”

“I don’t have to do shit,” Genz said. “We’re not in school. You can’t tell me what to do.”

Roy could almost feel Ed cringe at the echoing of his own words.

“True,” he agreed, nodding sincerely. “But I think that even you, Genz, are smart enough to know that fucking with me right now is not a good idea.  _Because_ we're not in school.”

Genz glowered at the couple, as if deciding whom he hated more.  His lips twitched as he debated challenging Roy further, but in the end, what little common sense he possessed won him over. 

“Fuckin’ homo,” he muttered before storming away.

Roy watched him leave the store.  Luckily, he hadn’t parked next to him. It really _was_ a wonder that his car had yet to be keyed or his tires slashed by a disgruntled student. Or, at least in the past, a disgruntled Jean.

With the eyesore finally removed, Roy turned to Ed. “That’s probably the most accurate thing he’s ever called me. Why are you looking at me like that?”

“That was…” Ed blinked at him in shock, trying to find the words. 

“Sexy?”

Ed grinned. “Actually? Yeah. But… why are you here?”

Roy shrugged coyly. “I was in the neighborhood.”

“You _live_ in the neighborhood.” Ed’s smile faded. “Were you looking for me?”

“Al was worried so I thought I would try to find you.”

“I’m sorry.”

Roy placed his hand on Ed’s left shoulder and squeezed it gently. He didn’t think something like that would normally draw them negative attention, unless an onlooker just happened to notice the obvious look of love and adoration on his face and put two and two together. 

“It’s alright,” he said. “What’s done is done. It’s no big deal.”

_Although it could have been… and still might be._

Since other people had entered the store, Roy reluctantly dropped his hand. He glanced down at the chips in Ed’s hand. “Is that a peace offering?”

“Food is pretty much required in any situation with Al.”

“I gathered,” Roy said, calling to mind his empty cupboards. “Speaking of Al, we better get back before he calls the cops. But first, you’re buying me a Slushie.”

*****

_I should have bought more chips._

Ed mistakenly thought that he would be spared a lecture if he returned to Roy's house bearing food. In actuality, he still got lectured, only through a mouthful of chips and dip.

“I know, Al. I’m sorry,” he said for the fifth time in as many minutes. 

“Just don’t let it happen again,” the young teen admonished, chomping away. 

“I won’t,” Ed replied dutifully.

Al licked his fingers before putting his arm into the bag and foraging at the bottom for crumbs. “So do you think this Genz guy is going to give Roy a hard time?”

Ed shrugged. “I don’t know. Roy doesn’t think so.”

“You should have wrecked his face instead of his desk.”

“Al!”

“What?” 

Despite having witnessed it firsthand, Ed still couldn’t believe such an impossibly sweet human being harbored such a potentially violent streak. It was just too surreal to consider.

“Did you and Roy kiss and make up?”

“Pretty much.”

“What the crap does that mean?” Al asked amid a cloud of sour cream and onion breath. “Either you did or you didn’t. Now, get your ass upstairs.”

“But--”

“Go!” Al playfully kicked at Ed with his foot. 

“Yes, sir,” Ed said with a smile. “Dork,” he added under his breath.

“Tool,” Al retorted. 

Ed kicked him back--

_“Hey!”_

\--before darting up the stairs to Roy’s bedroom.

*****

He tapped lightly on the half open bedroom door before entering the room, where he found Roy making the bed.

“Everything okay?” Roy asked.

“I need to use more food next time,” Ed said, closing the door and leaning his back against it. 

“Probably,” Roy agreed. He gave up fighting with the fitted sheet and sat down. Bed-making had always been Maes’ thing; Roy himself had never seen the point in doing it since they were just going to get back into it.

“Roy,” Ed started, nervously digging into the carpet with his toes. “You know I didn’t mean any of that stuff, right? I really don’t think that you’re trying to act like my father.”

Roy looked into Ed’s pained face and reassured him with a kind smile. “I know. But at the risk of sounding like one, would you please not take off like that again the next time we have an argument?”

Ed trudged over to the bed and sat down next to the older man. “So let’s just not argue.”

Roy found himself moved by the request. Perhaps it was because it proved to him that Ed didn’t want any conflict between them, either. He wrapped his arms around the teen and pulled him into his chest, burying his face in a nest of blond hair and breathing in deeply. 

“That would be nice,” he said, resting his cheek against Ed’s scalp. “Unfortunately, we probably _are_ going to argue again at some point in the future--”

_Because you’re stubborn as hell._

“--but it won’t be the end of the world.” Roy tightened his grip around him. “Besides, if we didn't argue, we wouldn’t be able to make up _._ ”

“Oh yeah.”

Roy felt Ed smile against his chest, which was nice. Then he felt a hand ease its way into his crotch, rubbing him to a fast and urgent hardness.

That was even nicer.

*****

Unfortunately for Ed, Roy was too preoccupied with making him cry out to remind him that Al was right downstairs. And so the teen remained blissfully ignorant of his brother’s presence… until he stopped at the foot of the stairs an hour later and saw his amused face.

“Al.”

“Yep.  Still here.”

Ed blushed as he remembered every unrestrained moan and cry. “Were you sitting there the whole time?”

“Yep. Sure was.”

“Why didn’t you… I don’t know… go outside or something?!”

“I don't think that would have made a difference,” Al said, trying to subdue his laughter.

“Oh, _God_.” Ed squeezed his eyes shut--

“Don’t worry about it. The TV was actually able to drown out _most_ of it.” 

\--and hid his face in his hands.

Al broke down and cackled at Ed’s embarrassment. “Settle down. It’s not like I didn’t expect _that_ to happen. I did. Just not so _loudly_.”

“Okay, you can shut up now.” 

“You were _really_ loud, Ed.”

“Yeah, I get it.”

“Like, _super loud_.”

“Goddammit, Al!”

*****

Although Al had offered to make himself scarce that evening, both Roy and Ed insisted that he stay. They ended up ordering pizza--one for Roy and Ed, and one for Al--and playing rummy until well past midnight. To absolutely no one’s surprise, Ed cheated. He cheated so much that both Al and Roy were convinced that he had a secret stash of cards hidden somewhere in his automail.

Later, they watched movies. The dreadfully boring kind, so as not to terrify Ed. Roy was the first one to fall victim to the lack of action, falling asleep with his head against the back of the couch. Ed succumbed soon after, splayed across his chest and thighs.  Because Al didn’t have the heart to wake either of them, and because he thought they looked so damned _cute_ that way, he retrieved a blanket from the guest room and draped it across them instead. 

When he was done, he quietly grabbed Ed’s phone and the keys to the car and stepped outside to do what he had been waiting patiently to do all evening.

He found the number he was looking for on Ed’s contact list and hoped that she was still awake. It was Saturday night. Surely she had to be.

And luckily, she was.

“Hi, Winry.”

_“Hey, Al! What’s up?”_

“Not much.  Hey, I was wondering if you knew a guy named Genz.”

_“Genz… Genz… Oh! Yeah, I do… God, he’s a real dickhead, though.”_

Al smiled. 

“That’s the one. Any idea where I can find him?” 


	29. A Parting of Ways

Roy stumbled down the stairs, rubbing at his eyes. He’d had to use the bathroom something fierce as a result of Ed’s left leg draped over him and putting serious pressure on his bladder. It was the only drawback of the teen’s insistence on using him as a body pillow; Roy loved the way Ed clung to him in his sleep, but between that and the occasional automail bumps and kicks when he was having a particularly vivid dream, sleeping with him was also very much the bodily hazard. 

He yawned loudly as he trudged through the living room and into the kitchen for a drink--

“Al?” he croaked, squinting against the light and thankful that he was at least wearing a pair of pajama bottoms, not that he normally sauntered naked around the house. When his sluggish brain finally registered what he was actually seeing, he opened his eyes wide and stormed over to the table.

“Hi Roy.” The teen smiled innocently at him, as if sitting at the table with his right hand jammed in a bowl of ice and a bloody wad of tissue jutting from his left nostril at four in the morning was the most perfectly natural thing in the world. 

Roy’s heart raced as he pulled Al’s hand from the bowl. He winced at the sight of the swelling and raw skin on the boy's knuckles. “Jesus Christ, Al.”

“It looks worse than it feels.”

“What happened?”

Roy’s tone had skipped the principal phase, which was bad enough, and catapulted straight into parental. Sensing this, Al ducked his head and pulled his hand away, hiding it under the table.

“I’m alright.”

“That _wasn’t_ the question.” Roy sat down, waiting for an answer.

“Please don’t ask me what happened,” the teen pleaded.

“Why shouldn’t I?”

Al looked up at him, blinking with wide, fearful eyes. It was hard for Roy not to think the worst, and his mind began to play out dozens of scenarios, none of them boding too well considering the kid had a busted hand and a bloody nose. All at once, he felt guilty; he was the adult here. For all he knew, Al had been in bed when he and Ed had dragged themselves upstairs after falling asleep on the couch. True, he wasn’t the boy’s father, but still…

“Why shouldn’t I ask you what happened?” he repeated. He hated the way Al shrank back in his chair but there was no time to coddle him, especially since something was so obviously wrong. 

Al lowered his head again, muttering an unintelligible response. He let out a long, shuddering sigh that stung Roy’s heart, but not enough to let it go.

“What did you say?” he asked, softening his tone. 

“I said because I don’t want to lie to you.” Al went quiet, offering no further explanation.

Although Roy didn't know Al as well as he would've liked, one thing he knew for certain was that he was determined to keep mum, no amount of coercion would change his mind. There seemed to be no shortage of stubbornness in the Elric family. 

The hour was late. The brothers would be leaving later today, and Al had a long drive ahead of him. Perhaps it was best not to browbeat him anymore, especially since it wasn't getting him anywhere.

“Alright.” 

No, it wasn't. But what else could he do? , not really. Roy reached across the table and ruffled the teen’s hair, and he felt a little less apprehensive when Al smiled. He had grown rather fond of that smile.

He went to the kitchen counter and grabbed a towel. “Why don’t you go to bed?” he suggested, tossing it at Al. “You need to get some rest before you leave.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for. But you better hope that swelling goes down before morning because I don’t think your brother would be so quick to let it go.”

“You’re not gonna say anything to him?”

Roy shook his head. “It’s not my place.” Or so he wanted to think, but it was hard not to feel conflicted about it. “But I won’t lie to him if he asks me anything,” he added.

“Okay.”

Al got up and pushed in his chair, beaming at Roy. Roy sighed and smiled back; how could he not? Was there a more lovable kid in the world?

“Goodnight, Al,” he said softly. 

“‘Night!”

After Al left, Roy pressed a hand to his temple. He couldn't shake the feeling that he had just been conned. Apparently Elrics were adept at charm as well as stubbornness. 

He dumped the ice in the sink and got two bottles of water from the fridge, in case Ed should wake up and want some. He then made his way back up the stairs and crawled into bed. No sooner had he gotten comfortable did a heavy metal leg land awkwardly across his waist, causing him to grunt painfully. Roy lifted his arm and Ed instinctively scooted into his side, burying his face in the older man’s armpit, of all places. Roy grinned and closed his eyes, returning the teen’s embrace as much as he could given his limited mobility. 

Just as he was about to doze off, in spite of his discomfort, his cell phone buzzed loudly. Roy smiled in the darkness and grabbed it from the nightstand.

_“Good _morning_ , Daddy Roy!”_

“Hi, Leesee.”

Roy held the phone close against his ear and listened to his daughter’s description of her day. He became so enraptured by her humorous tales of chopstick misfortunes--the poor child had never had much in the way of dexterity--that he completely forgot about the scene in the kitchen and what Al could have possibly gotten into until later that morning.

*****

The dying woman woke up in a fit of coughing and gagging. She cringed as blood filled her mouth and swallowed it with a grimace of disgust. It wasn’t a taste that she would soon get used to… not that she had long for that. She was living on borrowed time, and quite a bit of it; by all rights, she should have died before she had even been diagnosed.

Lately she had pondered much the possibility of doing what nature or God or whatever was taking too long to do. Her medicine cabinet boasted enough narcotics to put down a whale and she’d initially had every intention of proceeding with the inevitable. The pain was, at times, too much to bear and along the way, she had begun to worry that fate, in its infinite sense of irony, would see fit to keep her around in misery and agony. She deserved as much. But ultimately, she decided against it.  Izumi wasn’t a quitter, never had been. She could deal with the pain for now.  However, the idea of living like this for much longer…

She sat up on the couch and noticed that she was wrapped in a blanket. She reached down and touched it gently, with more affection than she had ever shown most human beings in her entire life, including her husband. He must have covered her with it before he left; she’d fallen asleep with her head in his lap and remembered nothing else until now. It was beginning to happen with increasing frequency, these bouts of sleep that were closer to unconsciousness than actual slumber. There were no dreams, only darkness. While Izumi didn’t feel as if she had a right to ask it, she did hope to go in her sleep. She didn’t want to feel herself slipping away into nothingness. However, if she did go cursing and screaming and puking blood, well… she supposed it would be the perfect ending to her punishment. 

What she couldn’t stomach, more than anything else, was the idea of finding a glimmer of happiness so close to the end. To meet this incredible man knowing that any possible relationship between them was nothing more than a deathwatch. It was crueler than any physical pain, this dangling carrot of hope that hung just beyond her reach. 

_Lou…_

They had already established a ritual between them. At nine o’clock, he would come calling with roses. She’d never been given roses before she met him; they were so lovely to behold and their rich, red color was a striking compliment to her ghastly pale reflection, much more so than the blood she hacked up. He would cook her breakfast and they would sit, eat, and talk. A lot. It seemed that she already knew more about the Armstrong lineage than she cared to know, but she enjoyed hearing him speak. It was soothing. Comforting. And it took her mind off the dying.

She realized that at some point, she had become completely smitten with this man and she loved it. 

And she _hated_ loving it.

Izumi curled into a ball. The bedroom seemed like another world away; the couch would do for the night. She turned onto her side and closed her eyes, waiting for fatigue to once again pull her under. She tightened her grip on the blanket that covered her shoulders, pretending that they were the massive yet gentle arms of the man she could have quite possibly come to love, had she only the time.

*****

“Morning.”

Ed walked into the kitchen fresh from the shower. Even though his hair was still damp from being washed, that one stubborn lock still managed to stand erect at the top of his head, which both tickled and fascinated Roy to no end. 

“You’re actually walking?” Al marveled through a mouthful of toast. “Wow.”

“Shut up.” Ed punched his brother on the arm and joined him and Roy at the table.

Roy chuckled into his coffee. After he’d gotten off the phone with Elysia, Ed woke up and began fondling him all over, much to his surprise and immense pleasure. Needless to say, a whole lot of sex ensued. What Al didn’t realize was that despite his brother’s embarrassingly frantic wailing, _Ed_ wasn't the one who should've had trouble walking... not that Roy felt any need whatsoever to correct the teen’s assumption. It was, as the kids said nowadays, TMI.

As Ed grabbed the plate set out for him and dug into the remaining food (there wasn't much because of Al), Roy watched him for any sign of concern over Al’s nose, which still appeared slightly swollen. But luckily for Al’s sake, he was too preoccupied with stuffing his face to pay such close attention to detail. Roy assumed that the only reason he even noticed it at all himself was because he knew how banged up the boy had looked hours earlier. They hadn’t spoken about it while Ed was in the shower; Roy made it a point to act as if nothing had happened and Al had been more than happy to follow suit.

The kitchen phone started to ring as the boys began bickering over the last slice of bacon. Roy considered reminding them that there was more in the fridge but settled on letting them duke it out while he got up to answer the phone. 

_“Mornin’ Chief.”_

“Shouldn’t you be getting kicked out of someone’s bed right about now?” Roy asked his ex.

_“Big talk coming from the man who’s corrupting a minor,”_ Jean shot back.  _“Anyway, I wanted to see if you wanted to grab some dinner and watch the game tonight.”_  

“Sure.” Roy hated to admit that he was actually looking forward to the man's company. “Was that it?”

_“Yeah--oh shit, wait. No. You’ll never believe what I heard last night…”_

*****

“Al.”

Al looked up at Roy with the final slice of bacon hanging from his mouth. “Hm?”

“Why don’t you run to the store and gas up the car before you guys hit the road?”

The two teens exchanged glances. It wasn’t an unusual request, but something still seemed off.

“Good idea,” Ed added, sensing Roy’s need to talk. “Get me a Slushie too.”

“… Okay.” The younger Elric crammed the rest of the bacon into his mouth and stood up. “Do you want me to get something for you?” he asked Roy, searching his face for any possible motive behind his request. 

“No, thank you,” Roy replied, returning to the table. 

“I guess I’ll be back,” Al said with a hint of trepidation. He walked over to the kitchen door, casting one last worried glance over his shoulder before leaving the room.

Ed waited until he heard the sound of his brother exiting the house before speaking up. “What’s going on, Roy?”

Roy brought his hands to his head and sighed. Try as he might, there was no way to lighten the blow of what he was about to say, so he simply said it:

“Last night your brother tracked down Genz and beat him up. Pretty badly.”

Ed’s eyes widened in horror.  _“What?”_

Roy launched into an explanation of events, starting with his discovery in the kitchen and ending with Jean’s ever so eloquent summation of Genz having ‘had his ass handed to him’. He hated going back on his word to Al; had it just been some random encounter with a stranger he wouldn't have said anything, as promised. But this… this changed everything.

He stopped talking and let the teen absorb the story, watching the range of emotion flood his face, from disbelief to acceptance to anger to fear. He sympathized, having just gone through the same thing moments earlier while Ed and Al argued over the sanctity of pork. 

“It could… it could be a coincidence,” Ed offered.

“It’s not and you know it,” Roy countered.

Ed pushed his plate away and rested his elbows on the tabletop, burying his face in his hands. “Fuck,” he muttered softly. He glanced at Roy between his fingers. “What if Genz goes to the police?”

Roy shook his head, having considered the same exact thing. “I don’t think he will. If he does, I'll try to see what Lou can do to... smooth it over.  But you guys better get going as soon as Al gets back. Just to be safe.”

“Yeah,” Ed agreed. He groaned and ran his fingers through his still-damp hair. “What the hell am I supposed to say to him?”

Roy shrugged and tapped his fingers against his cup. “What _can_ you say to him? What can either one of us possibly say to him after what we’ve done? We've both done some questionable shit just to be together. What Al did was no different.” He frowned. “Actually, it’s even _worse._  It’s worse because now an innocent kid might suffer because of us.”

“So what do we do?”

“Well, we can’t keep doing _this_. Especially now that Al is getting involved in our drama. I should have said this to you the minute I found out about what you did to Sig… No. I should have said it right from the start.” He smiled sadly at Ed. “But I couldn’t because I wanted to be with you so much. We can’t do this to Al, though. I don’t want to see anything happen to him because he was trying to protect us when we’re not doing a goddamn thing to protect ourselves.”

Ed nodded in reluctant agreement. His eighteenth birthday now seemed like a lifetime away; how in the world was he supposed to go without seeing Roy until then? He racked his brain for a positive spin on the situation but in the end, he could only come to one conclusion:

“This fucking sucks.”

*****

Half of Ed’s Slushie had mysteriously disappeared by the time Al returned and now, as he stood at the front door to bid farewell to Roy, he cradled it in his hand and proceeded to make short work of the rest of it.

“Drive safely,” Roy ordered him, ruffling his hair yet again. 

“I will,” Al promised, smiling sweetly. He grabbed both his and Ed’s bags with his free hand and walked out of the house. 

“So how’s that Slushie?” Roy quipped.

Ed grinned and shrugged. “I don’t know how it tasted, but it looked pretty damn good.”

The two lovers watched from the doorway as Al struggled to put both oversized bags into the car without relinquishing his grip on Ed’s Slushie. After he was done, with nary a drop of the sweet, icy beverage squandered, they turned to face one another. 

“Are you going to tell him that you know?” Roy asked.

“I don’t know,” Ed said.  “Fuck if I can figure out this big brother shit sometimes.”

“I think you’re doing a pretty good job so far.” 

Ed smiled gratefully. He tugged on Roy’s shirt and pulled him down for a kiss that left them both breathless. Roy wrapped him in a tight embrace and they held onto each other for dear life, as if it would be years instead of months before they saw one another again.

“I love you,” Ed whispered into his ear before kissing it softly.

Roy nuzzled his head against Ed’s. “I love you,” he said, cursing the wide, dopey smile that lit up his face. 

“I’ll call you when I get home.”

“Okay.”

“Roy?  We’re doing the right thing… right?” 

“I think we are.” Roy stared into Ed’s face and felt an overwhelming urge to pull him back into the house and send Al on his way. It was such a silly, juvenile thing, but that didn’t stop it from being true. “It’s not like we’re not going to _talk_ to each other, at least,” he added. 

“True,” Ed agreed. “And we could always… you know…” A mild blush lit his cheeks as he finished his thought. “… _improvise_ … with other stuff.”

Roy raised a brow and considered the possibilities. “Definitely."

Ed smiled shyly. It was such a beautifully sweet, unassuming, and slightly uncharacteristic thing that Roy thought he could stare at it forever. Unfortunately, the impatient honking of a sixteen-year-old with a pilfered Slushie would not allow it. 

“You better get going,” he said. “I imagine an impatient Al is almost as bad as a hungry Al.”

“Almost.” Ed took a step backward. “Okay, then... Bye.”

“Goodbye.”

Roy swallowed hard as Ed went to the car and got in. He smiled and waved as Al backed out of the driveway, but the smile soon faded as the car sped down the street and out of sight.

He missed Ed already.

Roy closed the door. The house was silent. He hadn’t realized until that weekend just how much he missed the sound of family--the laughter, the bickering, all of it. And now that he’d had the opportunity to experience it again, he wasn’t sure that he could give it up so easily.

They _had_ done the right thing. Roy was tired of sneaking around, tired of breaking the law, and worst yet, tired of seeing the people he cared about break the law for him. He wanted a proper, legal, relationship with Ed. Sure, people were still likely to call him a pervert once Ed turned eighteen. There wasn’t a May/December relationship out there that didn’t experience the same kind of discrimination. But none of that mattered if it meant he could just _be_ with Ed without any fear of persecution. So, yes. This temporary separation was indeed the right thing to do.

Everything was going to be okay.

*****

“… and this is Russ and his little brother Fletcher. Russ is an asshole, but he can be okay. Sometimes.”

Martel stood just past the shoulder of her new friend as he looked at the pictures on her phone. Although she’d only just met him a few days ago, she already felt as if she’d known him forever.

“Who’s this?” he asked, tilting his head in curiosity. He could have sworn that the person in the picture looked just like--

“Al,” she said with a smile. 

The young man waited patiently while she ogled her boyfriend’s face. It was kind of cute, in a way. Martel hadn’t struck him as the lovey dovey type, and he was willing to wager that she definitely didn’t act this way around her fellow. 

“I’m moving on now before you drool on my shoulder,” he joked, receiving a jab in the arm for his trouble. 

“Very funny,” Martel said snidely. She pulled up a new picture. “And that’s Ed.  He's Al’s older brother, although you really can’t tell by the look of him because he’s kinda short and all. He’s new here too, so maybe the two of you can hang out, get to know each other…”

The teen was vaguely aware of Martel’s voice, but he was entirely too transfixed by the warm, amber eyes staring back at him to register any of her words, aside from his name.

He had always considered himself a man of science. If a thing was to be, then there had to be a formula or equation or some logical explanation that served as the foundation for the reason behind it. But looking into that face was almost enough to make him believe in the concept of fate.  Destiny.

Love at first sight.

“Ed…”

Alfons Heiderich smiled softly.

He was beginning to think that he might like this new town after all. 


	30. Family and Friends

“So why aren’t we going back to Roy’s house?”

Ed fiddled with the seatbelt strap as he looked out of the car window at the passing scenery. The _quickly_ passing scenery. If he didn’t know any better, he would have sworn that Al was the one with a foot made of metal given the way he insisted on driving as if the speed limit was optional. 

He had fervently tried to avoid the topic for the last one hundred miles by talking about everything else under the sun. Bringing up Martel had helped; Al could talk about her forever, complete with his dopey, yet precious expression of affection. But unfortunately, having exhausted all of the other options he could think of, there were no more distractions to be had. 

“Well,” he started, trying to think of the best way to explain himself without letting on what he knew about Genz. “We just thought it was best if we spent some time apart--”

Al turned to look at him with true fear in his eyes. “Are you breaking up?”

“No. Now watch the road before you kill us.” After Al resumed staring at the pavement, Ed continued. “It’s just that everything’s finally settling down, and he’s got his job back, and I just… I don’t want to fuck that up for him.  And we want to be together without the chance of  _anyone_  going to jail.”

Al offered no commentary on his explanation, but Ed could sense that the words affected him. He took a deep breath and kept talking.

“We’ve both done some really stupid things,” he said. “I mean, just look at what I did. I could have been arrested for attempted murder or something. Over that fucking piece of shit Sig.”

“Yeah, but… he tried to get Roy fired.  _And_ arrested,” Al argued.

“True. But what if he had gone to the cops?” Ed held out his right hand and curled it into an ominous metal fist. “All they would have seen is a weapon. There’s no way I would have been able to get them to see it differently. Fat fucking lot of good it would do us if I’m spending the next thirty years in jail, right?” 

“But--”

“No buts, Al,” Ed said sharply, pushing aside the sting from the memory of Trisha’s voice as he borrowed her trademark phrase. “It was wrong. Even if it was for the right reason--that’s no excuse.”

He wasn’t necessarily sure that he believed what he was saying, but it sounded good enough. Would he have done the same thing to Sig again if given the opportunity? Absolutely. But this was Al. His little brother. Ed would rather die than see anything bad happen to him, especially on his account. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the nervous tapping of fingers against the steering wheel. He could almost feel Al’s mind spinning, reeling, trying to sort it all out for himself, and he felt guilty for the turmoil he was causing him. Sure, Al wasn’t a child. He made his own choices. He had chosen to go out, track down Genz, and kick his ass. But how could he not think that it was perfectly alright to do what he did, especially when his brother and his brother’s boyfriend had so casually thrown caution to the wind to be together? Al’s sweet, albeit violent gesture was simply his way of doing his part to make sure that they didn’t get caught, which was no different at all from what Ed and Roy had done. And Ed couldn’t be mad at him for that. He had no right. 

“Hey, Brother… I need to tell you something--”

“I’m hungry. Why don’t we hit the McDonald’s at the next exit?” Ed looked at Al’s worried face and tried to lighten the mood. “You must be hungry too. I mean, you haven’t eaten in almost a whole hour.”

Al smiled at that and Ed turned back to the window, relieved. What was done was done; there was no reason to drag it--along with Al--through the mud. That was _Ed’_ s choice. Was it the most responsible one? He wasn’t sure--probably not. But he wasn’t Al’s parent, he was his _brother._ There was a world of difference between the two. 

And speaking of that…

“Say, Al?”

“Say, what?”

“Why do you call me that sometimes? Brother, I mean.” It was a question he had been meaning to ask him for a while, and now was as good a time as any. 

“Oh, that.” Al blushed furiously and chuckled. “Well... I guess it’s because I’m so happy to have one that I like to say it sometimes,” he explained. “I think I really got used to saying it after Mom told me about you. Then after that-- _Way not to use a turn signal,_ _jerk!!--_ after that, I’d sneak into the family album whenever she and Dad weren’t around just to look at your baby picture, and I would always say to myself, ‘That’s my brother.’” He glanced at Ed and blinked innocently. “I can stop if you want me to.” 

“No, no, it’s fine.” It was more than fine--it was one of the sweetest things Ed had ever heard in his life and he thought his heart would break from happiness. “I was just curious, that’s all.”

“Are you still mad at her?” Al asked.

Ed shook his head slowly. “No. Well… there’s probably always going to be some small part of me that is, maybe… but mostly no. I don’t hate her or anything like that. Even if I did, what would be the point of it now?” he asked with a shrug. 

“I really miss her.”

“Me too, Al.” 

Because the atmosphere was growing entirely too thick with emotion--which Ed did not need or want right on the heels of leaving Roy--he offered up a suggestion.

“Let’s play a car game."

“Oooh!” Al smiled with excitement, swerving dangerously in the process. “How about I Spy? I love that game!”

“That’s fine and all, except that everything’s kind of a blur out there,” Ed replied. “It’s kind of hard to spy anything when you’re driving at warp speed.”

“Oh, shut up!” Al grinned happily and all was right with the world once again. “You’re buying me McDonald's for that.”

“Sure,” Ed agreed. “As soon as I get my Slushie that mysteriously disappeared down your throat.”

“Yeah, and it was really good, too.”

“Oh come on, that’s not even right.”

*****

Even though he hadn’t been gone long, it was damn good to be back.

Roy leaned back in his chair and smiled. Although he had a full agenda for the day as well as a lot of catching up to do on events that had taken place in his absence, he wanted to take a minute to enjoy the silence and calm, as well as thank whatever gods that would listen for allowing him to dodge a  _very_ big bullet.

That wasn’t to say that he didn’t feel some measure of guilt over some of the less pleasant events that had unfolded since he and Ed had gotten together. From Ed beating Sig within an inch of his disgusting life to Al turning Genz’s face into mulch--although he _was_ curious to see the extent of that damage firsthand--to his own resoundingly questionable behavior that eventually resulted in being suspended over an accusation that was, ultimately, quite true. Roy had gone from feeling like a child predator to a selfish bastard, but now that he and Ed had decided to remain apart until his eighteenth birthday, he did feel better about himself and the situation as a whole.

But he already missed him so much that he couldn’t stand it. Their hour long conversation the night before was nice, but it was  _nothing_ compared to that weekend past, _nothing_ compared to being able to see him, touch him, kiss him…

Roy knew that he would be able to endure the wait, as much as he didn’t want to have to do it. If he could live with having to wait _years_ to see his daughter again, he could wait months to see his lover. Still, just once, it would be nice if the people in his life didn’t have to leave him. 

“Welcome back, Chief!”

Then again, there were those he just couldn’t seem to get rid of.

“Thanks, Jean.” Roy looked to the doorway of his office and at his former lover. In spite of himself, he had been thankful for the man’s company last night. Not only had it taken his mind off missing Ed for a short while, but he also won a twenty dollar bet that they had placed on the game. 

“Mr. Must- oh!”

Sheska stopped in her tracks and almost ran into Jean. “Good morning, Mr. Havoc,” she said coyly, her cheeks turning every shade of red.

“Hello Sheska,” Jean said, leaning against the door frame and smiling wickedly. 

“Oh, good grief,” Roy muttered, understanding the truth of their not-so-subtle interaction.

“Mr. Mustang, here are the minutes you requested from last Friday's faculty meeting,” Sheska said, easing past Jean’s predator gaze and handing over a sheet of paper.

“Thank you,” Roy said, taking it from her and setting it aside. After she left, he looked at the teacher and shook his head.  _“Jean.”_  
  
Jean pried his eyes away from Sheska’s backside to answer him. “Yeah?”

“Could you _please_ find someone outside of your place of employment to sleep with?” Roy asked, taking care to keep his voice down. “What am I supposed to do if someone sues you for sexual harassment? Try and convince the world that you’re _not_ a slut?”

“The cock wants what the cock wants,” Jean replied wistfully.

“That's touching. But seriously...”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Jean said, waving off the request. 

“Or at the very least, just _settle down_ with one of them for God’s sake. Why don’t you try to work things out with Fuery? He’s a nice guy.”

“A nice guy who dumped me,” Jean reminded him.

“Did you ever stop to think that maybe he wanted to see other people because he knew that you would? Hell, you’re not even discreet about it half the time.” Roy glanced at his watch. “Look, I’ve got calls to make. I’ll catch up with you later, okay?”

“Okay, _Mom_ ,” Jean growled before walking away.

Roy stared at the empty doorway and sighed in exasperation. That man… he was actually a damn good friend when he wanted to be. But when he was like this, Roy just wanted to hurt him. 

Pushing aside his concern over Jean’s ability to keep it in his pants, Roy glanced at a list of numbers on his desk. Most of them were parents with whom he needed to discuss a wide variety of issues pertaining to the future of their children. But the most important call he needed to make had nothing to do with any of that.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone…

*****

“I know that ‘pussy-whipped’ isn’t exactly the correct phrase for you,” Al said, dumping half a box of cereal into a large mixing bowl. “But yeah. Totally you.”

Ed shoved his phone back into his pocket. He didn’t even bother trying to hide the smile on his face and why should he? “‘Cock-whipped,’” he corrected, joining Al at the kitchen table. “And correct me if I’m wrong, but who was the guy who had the phone glued to his ear while we were at Roy’s house because he missed his precious Martel so much?”

Knowing he had absolutely no argument to the contrary, Al gave his brother a cheeky grin and got up to fetch him a bowl. “How’s he doing?”

“Good,” Ed replied, dumping the remainder of the box into his bowl.  “Well, school hasn’t even started yet, but he sounded good. And he told me to tell you hello.” He took the carton of milk that Al slid over to him and sloshed it into the bowl. “Did you talk to…”

“Dad?”

Ed nodded and dug in. Try as he might, it was still hard for him to say it. 

“Yeah, I talked to him.” Al stared at Ed with a knowing gleam in his eyes. “He said he’d like to talk to you next time he calls and that you should stop avoiding him and maybe try to have a relationship with him since you made it sound like that’s what you wanted before he left.”

Ed chewed thoughtfully. “He said all that, did he?”

“More or less.”

“You’re a shitty liar,” Ed pointed out, taking a sip of orange juice. “But that’s not a bad thing.” He pushed his bowl to the side and raised a hand to his head. “I’m _trying,_ Al. I am. But it’s not gonna happen overnight. Not with him. And I don’t really know what else to tell you about it except that it’s harder with him. I don’t know why, but it is.”

“Probably because you’re just like him,” Al said nonchalantly as he chomped away. “Mom always used to tell me that he was a stubborn ass, too.” 

“Yeah well, I don’t think that has anything to do with--wait, what? I'm a stubborn ass!”

Al chortled. “Maybe not, but you _are_ kinda slow.”

“Oh, you’re done now,” Ed said, standing up.

_“Ohshit!”_  Al grabbed his remaining breakfast and bolted out of the room with Ed in full pursuit. 

The sound of their laughter echoed throughout the house.

And somewhere, undoubtedly, Trisha Elric was smiling.

*****

“I think you and Russ should kiss and make up.”

Al stopped walking and gaped at his brother. Around them, students ambled to and from the cafeteria, where they were now headed. “Why would I want to talk to him after what he did?” 

It was an excellent question, one that Ed had spent a great deal of time thinking about while they were on the road. “Because it's over. I’m not even mad about it anymore. Besides, you guys were friends way before I came along. I don’t want to be the reason that stops.”

“But you’re my brother. You come first.”

“I know, Al, and that means a lot to me. But are you gonna tell me that he _wasn’t_ like a brother to you all the time you’ve known him?”

Al bit his lip as the truth of Ed’s words hit home. “Yeah, but… what he did was just…”

“It was shitty, yeah,” Ed said, sparing a wave for a group of students who called out to him. “But tell me something.  Russ is an asshole, right?”

“Fuck yeah.”

“Watch your mouth,” Ed scolded, punching him lightly on the arm. “So anyway, I assume that he was always like that. Right?”

“Well… kinda, yeah, but--”

“ _And_ I assume that anytime he did an asshole thing in the past, you always forgave him. Right?”

“He hurt you,” Al said, frowning. 

Ed nodded in agreement. It was the one point against which he had no argument. “Yeah. But sometimes friends are going to hurt each other. I think it took me awhile to realize that because I’ve never had any except for Winry,” Ed continued as they reached the cafeteria and took their place in line. “But I’m over it now,” he insisted, grabbing a tray and conveniently neglecting to mention that he would most likely never trust the shady teen again.  
   
“... I’ll _think_ about it,” Al muttered, loading his tray. 

“Okay.”

_Who’s the stubborn ass now?_

*****

Once every thousand or so years, a phenomenal event happens:  an Elric loses his appetite.

Ed stared across the table at Al and Martel’s unabashed public display of affection in astonishment and horror. Astonishment, because this was his supposedly naive little brother. Horror, for the very same reason.

He pushed his half-eaten lunch aside and resigned himself to suffer through it. He didn’t dare make mention of the severe inappropriateness of their actions, because he truly was happy that Al was so thrilled to be with Martel again. 

And she would most likely beat him up for saying anything about it.

“Looks like quite the show you’re watching.”

Ed turned around and found himself staring into the pleasant face of a student who looked exactly like--

“Hey Alfons!” Martel said, keeping her bear hug on Al as she greeted him. “Sit down!”

The teen, Alfons, took a seat next to Ed. “Hi,” he said, smiling politely. 

“Hi.” Ed scooted his chair over to give him room. 

“Alfons just transferred in,” Martel explained. “Alfons, this is Al. He’s an Alphonse, too,” she said, nudging her boyfriend. “And that’s Ed.”

After a token salutation to Al--who was presently too busy being mauled by his girlfriend to do much of anything else other than offer a quick hello--Alfons extended his right hand to Ed. “Nice to meet you.”

“You too,” Ed replied. He hesitantly offered his gloved automail hand and braced himself, waiting for the slew of questions to come. 

But instead of ogling, Alfons merely shook his hand and released it. If he noticed the distinct feeling of metal in Ed’s grasp, he made no mention of it whatsoever. 

“Martel tells me you’re new here too,” he said, peeling open a carton of milk. “How do you like it so far?”  
  
Ed shrugged.  "I don't think I've been here long enough to say for sure, but so far so good.  What about you?  
   
“The people seem pretty nice. This one girl in my English class--Rose, I think is her name--she’s been especially cool.”

Martel snorted laughter. “I wonder why.  _Slut_.”

“You know, it’s funny,” Alfons continued. “She looks _exactly_ like a girl I knew back home. But anyway, I like it so far.”

He smiled again and Ed felt compelled to do the same. Strange, it wasn’t often that he felt so immediately at ease with someone he had just met, with the exception of Al.  

Coincidence?

“I didn’t peg her as the affectionate type,” Alfons said in a low voice, glancing across the table at the two lovebirds. 

“Normally, she’s not.” Ed shook his head in disbelief. “Gross, isn’t it?” he whispered.

_“I heard that.”_

Al spoke up in defense of his woman. “You should talk, Ed. It’s not like I didn’t have to see _or hear_ certain things at Roy’s house.”

Ed’s face turned an amazing array of reds while Martel pointed and laughed at him. 

“Who’s Roy?” Alfons asked, trying to understand the joke.

“My boyfriend,” Ed answered, surprising himself with his sudden willingness to out himself so casually to a complete stranger.

“Oh. Well… then I’m afraid it sounds like Al has a point.” 

“Ha!” Al exclaimed. “I like you already, Alfons.”

“We Al’s have to stick together, don’t we?” Alfons chuckled and took a sip of his milk.

“That’s right,” Al gloated, offering him a dorky high five.

While the boys rambled on, Martel seemed to be the only one who noticed the look of disappointment on the face of her newest friend. She looked from Alfons to Ed and back to Alfons and put two and two together.  
  
"Not again," she mumbled.  
  
"What'd you say?" Al asked.  
  
"Nothing."  She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, effectively destroying his curiousity.  
  
It worked like a charm, every single time.   
   
*****

After bidding farewell to Ed, Alfons, and Martel--who had seemed determined to tag along with them for some reason--Al spotted Russ in the hallway. He and Fletcher hadn’t shown up at the cafeteria, having decided instead to eat elsewhere. Well, Russ most likely decided. Fletcher, like any devoted brother, would have only naturally followed suit. 

He made his way through the sea of student bodies and caught him just as he was about to enter the bathroom. Upon seeing him, Russ shrank back in shock, as well as fear of being pummeled again, perhaps. 

“Al… hey.”

Al glowered at Russ as Ed’s words resonated in his mind. It was true--Russ _was_ an asshole. But he was also the same asshole who always stood up for him whenever anyone gave him a hard time (because while he was unashamedly ruthless when it came to protecting Ed, he was still rather sensitive himself). The same asshole who had always come bearing extra food or the newest video game, just for him. The same asshole who stayed up many a night with Al when he had no one else to talk to about the brother he had yet to know. 

The same asshole who was always there for him.  _Always._

“I was playing Rock Band last night with Ed and he can’t sing for shit,” he said, crossing his arms. “So… if you wanna come over and help out so we don’t keep getting booed off stage… then… fine.” 

The corner of Russ' mouth curved ever so slightly.  “… Yeah. Okay.” He leaned against the bathroom door and kicked at the ground with his foot. “I bought the new Fallout. Want to borrow it?”

“... Sure."  Al shoved his hands into his pockets and took a step back as the warning bell sounded. “See you later, then.”

He spun around and walked away before his anticipation could show. Damned if he was about to let Russ off _that_ easy.

Not that he was being stubborn about it…

*****

After finally arriving home around six, Roy flopped onto the couch and checked his watch. It was almost time for Elysia’s daily wake-up call, something he wouldn’t have missed for the world.  And then later, he would call Ed and they would talk for hours.  Well, _hopefully._   All in all, it was going to be a good evening.

Despite the fact that the two people he loved most were half a world away, one figuratively and one literally, Roy was feeling pretty upbeat. Life was good… no. Life was _great._  He had a wonderful daughter and a wonderful partner, both of whom were all he would ever want or need.

He had no way of knowing that over the next few weeks, he would lose them both. 


	31. Hit or Miss

Against his better judgment, or lack thereof, Roy had always assumed that Gracia would notify him immediately in the event of any trouble where Elysia was concerned, no matter how great or small the issue might have been. Granted, the woman had taken it upon herself to shield the child from him after Maes died, even as it was clearly obvious that he was just as much a parent to the little girl as Gracia could ever hope to be.  Still, Roy assumed. In spite of their troubled history, in spite of the perceived betrayal, in spite of it _all_ , Roy had tried his hardest to make it clear to the woman that there was nothing in the world, or in the very universe itself _,_ that he wouldn’t do for his Leesee.  She was all that Roy had left of Maes, and he treasured her more than anything.

It was little wonder, then, that the seed of worry planted in his heart the first night she had failed to call him had bloomed greatly some six days later. 

“Mr. Mustang?”

Roy wanted to think it silly.  He had gone so long without seeing or hearing from her after Maes died--what was a mere week compared to all of that lost time?  There could have been a thousand and one reasons that his phone did not ring the past week as it had like clockwork since Gracia and Elysia arrived in Japan.  Silly, indeed… except it did absolutely nothing to quell his growing fear that something was amiss. 

“Mr. Mustang?”

He would give it one more night before calling Gracia.  It was only by an amazing effort of self-control that he had managed to restrain himself from doing it already--that was the hardest thing.  The only reason he _did_ resist the urge was that sometimes it was downright impossible to gauge the woman’s reaction to him and he did not wish to disturb the shaky truce they had.  However, more than enough time had already passed; he had every right to ask about Elysia and he knew he would go straight out of his mind if he didn’t do it soon.

Needless to say, it hadn’t been the best of weeks for Roy. And as if that wasn’t enough to worry about, there was also the situation with Ed, who--

_“Mr. Mustang.”_

Roy snapped out of ruminations and saw Sheska standing in the doorway of his office, watching him with concern.  He had no idea how long she had been attempting to summon him and, to be honest, he really didn’t care.  But even if work was the last thing on his mind, he had a job to do. 

“Yes, Sheska,” he said with a fake, albeit charming smile.  “What is it?”

“I’m sorry to interrupt you,” the young woman replied, carefully eyeing the room for any possible clue into Roy’s lack of attention.  “You have a visitor.” 

Before Roy could open his mouth to inquire further, his mystery guest appeared in the doorway, taking him completely by surprise. 

“Lou!” 

Lou Armstrong, he of that perennial lineage of public service, loomed over the secretary, making the poor girl look infinitesimal in comparison to his massive form.  Roy was truly shocked to see him there--in a good way, of course--now that Lou no longer made the rounds at the school to scare the deviant kids straight, which was something he was normally able to do by his sheer presence alone.

“I’m sorry to barge in like this,” Lou said in his deep, booming voice. 

“Oh, shut up and come in,” Roy responded, standing up and walking across the room to greet him.  “Please hold my calls,” he instructed Sheska. 

“Thank you, Miss,” Lou said, giving the secretary a glowing, almost _sparkling_ smile.  “I won’t be too long,” he promised Roy as he entered the room.   

“You can be as long as you want, Big Guy,” Roy reassured him with a pat on his solid shoulder.  “I don’t have anything pressing for the rest of the day.”  That was an outright lie but Roy was so grateful for the impromptu visit that he didn’t care.  He gladly welcomed any diversion that would take his mind off of his worries… or, at the very least, keep them from dominating his thoughts so completely. He ogled Lou’s massiveness, once again completely baffled at the behemoth who had been so unbelievably scrawny as a kid.  “Have a seat.” 

They each moved towards the chairs in front of Roy’s desk.  Roy leaned against the desk and watched as Lou squeezed his immense body into one of the seats, briefly wondering if it might not shatter under his solid weight.   

“How have you been?” Lou asked.

If only there were enough hours in the day to answer that.   

“Good,” Roy said, nodding in affirmation.  “I’ve been a bit busy since I’ve been back…”   

His voice trailed off as the issue of the _technically_ false accusation against him loomed in the air.  He supposed it would always be a somewhat awkward subject between them, particularly on his part, considering that Lou was one of only a handful of people who not only knew that he was indeed in a sexual relationship with a seventeen-year-old former student, but who had also bent the law--more than once and in ways he dare not speak of--to help him maintain it.     

“What about you?  What have you been up to these days?” 

_When you're not saving my ass._

“Well… that’s why I came to see you,” Lou replied.  He intertwined his thick fingers and leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs as he regarded his friend.   

“What’s going on, Lou?” Roy asked, tilting his head and frowning slightly.   

“Izumi Curtis.” 

Roy’s frown deepened upon the mention of her name.  Hearing it invoked too many things that he sought desperately to forget.  “What about her?” 

Lou cleared his throat.  He leaned back in his seat and nudged the empty chair beside him with his foot, inching it towards Roy. 

“Maybe you ought to sit down.” 

*****

“Jealous much?"

Russ didn’t have to turn around to know that the annoying--if admittedly somewhat sultry--voice behind him belonged to Martel.   

“Not at all,” he said, turning back to his locker and fumbling around with its contents.

“Bullshit.”  Martel glanced at Russ in disbelief before turning her attention back to the sight that had so captivated him.  In a way, she couldn’t blame him.  Ed and Alfons had been damn near joined at the hip from the day they met.  Anyone hoping to get down either pairs of those pants was in for a rude awakening; they were just _that_ impenetrable.  It had to be eating away Russ, the way those two had hit it off. 

And quite frankly, she _loved_ it. 

“Whatever.”  Russ grabbed a few textbooks and slammed the locker shut, confirming Martel's suspicions.   

“Oh, clever comeback,” she quipped, grinning openly at the irritated teen as he brushed past her and made his way down the hallway, away from The Ed and Alfons Show.   

Watching them through the swarm of students that lined the halls, Martel had to admit that they _did_ look kind of cute together.  And while she was fairly positive that Ed’s devotion to that Roy guy was unwavering, it was obvious that Alfons’ intentions weren’t nearly as platonic.  The coy side glances, the slight touches on the elbow and shoulder, the hearty laughter over things that weren’t nearly that funny… Martel could see the attraction a mile away.  As did Russ.  Thankfully, however, it seemed as if Al had not caught on.  Not yet, anyway. 

And if his meltdown all over Russ’ face was any indication, she hoped like hell that he would never figure it out.

*****

“Hey, there’s Martel.”

Ed looked up and saw the lanky girl passing them by, undoubtedly on her way to meet Al at their usual pre-bell spot.  He and Alfons waved at her before heading to their next class, taking the slow and scenic route as they walked together.

“What about tonight?  We’re still going, right?” Alfons asked as they weaved through the crowd.

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Ed said.  “I just need to call Roy at some point before it gets too late.”

A pang of guilt tore through him at the mention of his lover’s name.  After the past week of phone tag and too-short conversations the few times the two of them had actually spoken, the teen was aching to have a real sit-down talk with the man.  Well, what he _really_ wanted was to see him; their self-imposed separation was making him downright miserable.  But being with Alfons helped. The only reason Ed was hardly ever home anymore was that he didn’t have the time to sit and mope over the whole ordeal while hanging out with his new friend.  Drowning himself in movies and and video games and trips to the mall was just about the best medicine there was for missing Roy, and Ed had indulged himself in those things to the fullest, so much so that the past week he had started to lose track of time.  One more than one occasion, he and Alfons hadn’t parted ways until dawn, only to grab an hour or two of sleep, go to school, and do it all over again. 

He had to admit that it wasn’t just about keeping busy.  He really liked hanging out with Alfons.  And he didn’t even have to worry about ulterior motives like he did with Russ, which was a bonus.  Aside from Al and Roy, Ed had never had so much fun in the company of another human being, not even Winry.  Having friends like that was still very much a new sensation to him and he was enjoying every minute of it.   

Which, of course, made him feel even guiltier with every night that passed without hearing Roy’s voice. 

Ironic, wasn’t it?  He had finally “gotten a life” and now the most important part of it was also the farthest removed.

Sometimes, lately _most_ times, eighteen seemed like an entire lifetime away.

***** 

_“Goddammit!”_

Roy slammed the knife down on the cutting board and glared at the half-chopped carrot, cursing it, the knife, the cutting board, and the whole damn counter straight to hell.  In his momentary fit of rage he envisioned rendering it all aflame with a snap of his fingers.  If only it was that simple. 

He shoved his index finger into his mouth, wincing at the taste of his own blood, and walked into the bathroom for some basic first aid.  Lou’s voice filled his mind as he tended to himself, echoing remnants of their earlier conversation. 

_I went against a dying woman’s wishes to tell you this,_ _Roy._

“Yeah, well, I wish you hadn’t, Lou,” Roy muttered through clenched teeth as he ripped open the bandage lodged between them, his mind unable to grasp the thought of Lou and… _Izumi Curtis?_  

He shook his head.  It was all he could do when he tried to consider the notion of his friend becoming involved with the wife of a man he had beaten half to death.  Granted, there had been very little in the way of romantic attachments for the big guy in all of the years that Roy had known him; many women were unable to look past the frightening bulk of muscle to get to the heart of what had to be one of the kindest, most caring people Roy had ever met (when he wasn’t beating child molesters to a bloody pulp, that was).  But  _Izumi Curtis?_  

If nothing else, he supposed he should feel some measure of emotion for her situation, particularly if her outlook was as bleak as Lou made it sound.  He should… but yet, he didn’t.  He _couldn’t._   Sick or not, reformed or not, all Roy could see was Ed, and all of the fear and pain he suffered at her hands.  Trying to bring that boy out of the pit of his lifelong despair had effectively ruined any small bit of sympathy he could have possibly felt towards her.  He wasn’t happy she was dying.  He wasn’t sad she was dying.  He just didn’t care.  What he _did_ care about, though, was the fact that Lou was in love with this woman and now had the unenviable task of watching her waste away.  Roy knew all too well what it was like to lose someone and he was sad for the man, knowing that the same thing awaited him.   

He sighed deeply as he admired his handiwork, thankful that he wouldn’t need stitches.  He then walked back into the kitchen and picked up the offending knife.  He rinsed it off in the sink and resumed with the carrot. The weight on his heart had nothing to do with Lou and Izumi; focusing on them had merely been a diversion from the true source of his current angst and irritation.   

The truth was, Roy was lonely.  He missed the delightful sound of Elysia’s voice and he missed the warmth and coolness of Ed’s arms and he hurt all over thinking about the two of them.  Roy supposed he would feel better if he could just talk to them, but now, even that seemed like something he could only hope for.  He wanted Elysia to call him like she always did and, dammit, he wanted Ed to…

To what, exactly?   

Sit by the phone waiting for his call? 

Stop having a social life?

Roy scowled as he swept the carrots into a bowl and started on another one.  No, he didn’t want Ed to stop making friends or being Mr. Popularity or any of that.  Considering all the shit he had gone through, he deserved a little bit of glory. 

The chiming of the doorbell reached his ears and, luckily, saved him from slicing his finger yet again.  Roy set the knife down and wiped his hands on a towel before heading for the front door.  He figured it was probably Jean; the man was all about getting a free meal wherever he could.  And sex, too, if he could get away with it.  Normally, Roy would have been annoyed as hell at his unsolicited housecall, although he was more than used to it by now.  But today, it didn't bother him at all. _Any_ company, even Jean’s, was welcome.   

Roy opened the door, fully preparing himself for Jean's usual smartass greeting--

“Hello, Roy.”

 --and instead, found his entire world crashing to a halt.   

He gaped at the figure in the doorway for a long time.

“Where is Elysia?” he asked quietly as his heart pounded painfully in his chest.  That he wasn’t screaming at the top of his lungs or shaking the life right out of Gracia for an answer was nothing short of miraculous. 

“She’s with my mother,” she explained.  “I wanted a chance to talk to you first. Alone.”

This wasn’t good.  Then again, when it came to Gracia, he had come to expect as much.  As he entertained any and all scenarios that would have brought her halfway around the world to see him, the phone began to ring…

***** 

 … until the answering machine came on.   

“Hey, it’s me… uh… call me.  When you can.  Okay? … Bye.”

Ed ended the call and clutched the cell phone tightly, his brow furrowing with worry.  He had really hoped to catch Roy in the evening since they hadn’t had the best of luck with their regularly scheduled nighttime calls. 

Perhaps he had gone out to dinner with his big cop friend or, worse yet, that prick Havoc.  Ed couldn’t begin to see how Roy could stand being around that man for prolonged periods of time but even so, the teen was glad that he at least had the opportunity for distraction, albeit at the hands of an asshole.  After a moment of debate, Ed decided not to call Roy’s cell; if the man was dining out, he didn’t want to interrupt. 

Alfons came up behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder.  “Are you ready to go?” he asked.  “I don’t want to miss the previews.”

“Um… yeah.”  Ed gave his new friend a halfhearted smile.  “Yes,” he reiterated, adding a nod for good measure.

Alfons watched Ed carefully for a moment, his hand still resting all too comfortably on the other teen’s shoulder.  “Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine,” Ed insisted.  He forced his smile to widen and slipped from under Alfons’ grasp.  “Come on, let’s go.” 

The two teens hopped into Alfons’ car and headed out to the theater.  Ed was able to keep up with Alfons’ conversation _\--no,_ he wasn’t scared even though the movie they were going to see was supposedly gory as hell; _yes,_ he would buy refreshments if Alfons bought the tickets; and so on--but his mind was on one thing, and one thing only. 

Rather, one _person_.

_Tonight. We’ll talk tonight for sure tonight._

Or so he thought.

*****

In his present state of mental disarray, Roy had all but forgotten about the ringing of the telephone.  He would not even notice the awaiting message until the next morning… but by then, he really wouldn’t care.

Vato was going to adopt Elysia. 

He had lost her, all over again.

“Are you finished?” he asked her calmly, staring down at his folded hands.

Gracia blinked at him, somewhat taken aback by the question.  “Yes, I guess I am,” she answered. 

“Good.”  A small inner voice, muted by his growing anger, warned him to stop talking before something wholly irreparable happened... but hadn’t it already?  The woman had made her decision and legally there was nothing he could do to stop her.

What else did he have to lose now?

Roy glared at Gracia, hating, despising, _abhorring_ just how much of his little girl that he saw in her face.  

“Now I have something to say.”


	32. Everything Changes

“You… fucking… _bitch_.”

Roy glared at the reprehensible woman who had given birth to the single greatest joy of his life as he struggled to contain the rage that was dangerously close to consuming him. This was the second time that he had ever felt an almost overwhelming urge to hit a female and he tightly clenched his folded hands, lest they act out his desire of their own accord.

“You know goddamn well that I am just as much Elysia’s father as Maes ever was,” he continued, miraculously managing to keep his voice relatively calm in spite of his fury. “I don’t give a damn what the law says. _I_ was the one there with him, taking care of her, _raising_ her. If he were still alive, none of that would have ever changed.” Roy shook his head, pushing away thoughts of what could have been; now was not the time to get swept away by such things. “Have you even _thought_ about what's best for Elysia?”

“Yes, I have, Roy,” Gracia said quietly. “Have _you_?” She ran a hand through her short brown hair before she spoke again. “The hardest thing that I have _ever_ had to do was stand back and watch you and Maes raise my child. Why the hell do you think I fought it for so long? I thought there was no way she would ever be better off with the two of you because I'm her _mother._ A child belongs with her mother,” the woman said, letting out a small, bitter laugh. “But she _was_ better off.  She really was. I _know_ that. I hate it but that doesn't stop it from being true. And if Maes hadn't died, then I would have honestly been content with the way things were. I _s_ till would have hated it, but I would have been content because she was so happy.”

Gracia sighed. She looked tired. And sad.

“Look, Roy, I’m not saying that I don’t want you in her life, okay? I wouldn't have even bothered coming here to talk to you if I felt that way. She needs you, just as much as she needs me... as much as I hate to admit it. And I _do_ hate it. I’ve _always_ hated it. I've always hated... you. For God's sake, my husband _and_ my daughter loved you more than me. I hated your fucking guts for that.”

Roy was stunned by her long overdue admission; the buzzing of his silenced cell phone was faraway and, at that moment, completely unimportant. He had always suspected as much; it was rather obvious, given the ugliness that had ensued after she and Maes had separated. Even so, to actually _hear_ the brute and painful honesty of her words still came as a shock. Admittedly, he had never given much thought to her feelings throughout the whole custody battle. He had merely assumed that she was acting out of scorn for having lost Maes. And while that was clearly true to some degree, the idea that she considered herself a failure as a mother had never once crossed his mind until now.

No. No, no, no. This wasn't right at all. Gracia was the enemy. Yes, she was. Wasn't she?

“I don't blame you if you don't believe me, Roy. But like I told you before, I'm not stupid. I don't want my kid hating me because I took you away from her. _All I want_ is what's best for Elysia and....” Gracia stopped suddenly, looking downward.

“And who? Vato?” Roy could not believe her nerve. “Jesus, Gracia, I know he's your husband, but I would like to think that my feelings weigh a little bit more in this than his.”

“No, not Vato...” she said slowly. Carefully.

A bit _too_ carefully for Roy's liking.

And just like that, he knew. The house phone rang in the background. Roy paid it no mind.

_This can't be happening._

“I'm pregnant, Roy. Your little girl is going to be a big sister.  _That's_ why I want Vato to adopt her.”

*****

“This can't be happening,” Ed whispered. He didn't see any point in leaving another message; the last thing he wanted was to come across as needy, even though he sure as hell felt like it. A worried frown creased the teen's brow. “Where _are_ you, Roy?”

“Did you say something?” Alfons asked as he came out of the bathroom. He plopped down on the couch next to Ed and kicked off his sneakers before folding his feet beneath him. “Or am I going deaf?”

“Hm? Oh. No, I was just...” Ed held up his phone before tossing it onto the coffee table and sitting back with a sigh.

“No answer?”

Ed reached behind his head and removed his hair tie. “No,” he said, running his fingers through the blond locks as they fell down around his shoulders.

“Maybe he's out,” Alfons surmised, taking the hair tie from Ed and twirling it around his fingers. “He could have gone to a movie, just like we did,” he offered. “Or out to... a... really _late_ dinner or maybe he just went to bed early or something.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

Ed gave the teen a weak smile of gratitude. Although he appreciated the gesture, he didn't believe for one second that something so mundane was the culprit. Something felt off. Something felt _wrong._

He supposed he was overreacting. Some couples lived apart all the time, states, even entire _countries_ apart, sometimes for extended periods of time. Surely they didn't talk to each other every single night of the week. And they probably didn't imagine the worst at every turn. Although he had no prior relationship experience, Ed assumed that it was only natural that they would have eventually fallen victim to the everyday ritual of their separate lives. It wasn't as if he expected the other man to sit by the phone and wait for him to call. 

“You know what we need?” Alfons asked, springing to his feet with a gleam in his blue eyes.

Ed regarded his friend's sudden enthusiasm with guarded interest. “What do we need?”

“We need a drink.”

“There's soda in the fridge...” Ed reconsidered Alfons' impromptu suggestion. “... but you're not talking about that kind of drink, are you?”

“Nope.” Alfons smiled deviously as he made his way over to Hohenheim's not-so-secret stash of alcohol. “Just one,” he promised, snooping around the assortment of bottles. “I think it'll help you not to worry so much. Unless you don't want one?” He blinked expectantly at Ed.

Ed considered his options. Not that there were many to choose from: either don't drink, go to bed, and worry all night, or drink, go to bed, and worry all night, but hopefully not as much. It wouldn't have been the first time the two friends had imbibed, although they didn't do it often because Al didn't care for it and had no problem letting them know.  
  
But Al wasn't home.

Roy was fine. Ed would talk to him tomorrow and discover that he had worked himself up for no good reason, and he would tell Roy all about it and they would both share a laugh at his expense. Yes, that sounded good. For tomorrow.

As for tonight...

“Sure, I'll have one,” he said, getting up and joining Alfons. “But _just_ one.”

*****

“Just one more, Jean,” Roy said, holding out his glass and waiting patiently for his former lover to fill it.

Jean gave Roy a suspicious glance before consenting to pour the man another drink. “This is the last fucking one, Roy. I mean it,” he warned him, his cigarette dangling precariously over the glass while he poured. “Unless you plan to teach your kid what a hangover is when she gets here _bright and early_ tomorrow morning.”

Roy chuckled and raised the glass to his lips... then peered closely inside of it for any hint of fallen ash. “I'm not drunk,” he said. “Although I _do_ think that this is just about my limit.”

“Hm.” Jean plucked the cigarette out of his mouth and upended the bottle of booze, drinking deeply. “Well, I gotta admit this is a hell of a lot better than the last time you got shitfaced,” he said, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “When you called me over, I thought for sure I was going to find you lying on the floor and marinating in your own puke again.”

“That's disgusting,” Roy said with a wince, both from the visual and from the memory.

“You're telling me.” Jean set the bottle on the floor and stretched his long legs out on the couch, pressing his feet against Roy's thigh in the process. “Why _did_ you call me, anyway?” he asked. “I don't mind or anything, but I'm just wondering why you didn't call Ed?”

“Because Ed...” Roy took a sip of liquor and tried to piece together his thoughts. Only after Gracia had left did he finally notice that the teen had attempted to contact him but Roy hadn't called him back. True, he could have blamed his failure to do so on the late hour.  However, that wasn't the only reason.  
  
Yes, he wanted to talk to Ed.  He missed the sound of his voice so much that it hurt.  But...

“It's... too big,” he said. “The whole... 'not talking to him' thing aside, this is just... it's too much.”

Jean ground out his cigarette and reached for a new one. “How's that?”

“Because he's a seventeen-year-old kid, Jean.” Roy helped himself to the man's cigarette. “He should be worrying about grades and graduation--”

“And fucking his former principal,” Jean added, lighting another cigarette and offering the flame to Roy. “What's your point?”

Roy took a deep drag and promptly coughed.

“Way to go, Chief.”

“Shut the hell up.” Roy took another sip of his drink and cleared his throat. “Anyway, my _point_ is that the last thing Ed needs is to have to deal with all of my issues. He's got his own to worry about.”

“Oh, really? And here's silly me thinking relationships went _both_ ways.” Jean looked at Roy through a haze of smoke. “Or are you just afraid that he wouldn't worry about your 'issues' at all?”

“No, I know that he cares about me.” Roy sincerely believed that to be true, in spite of his hesitation.

“Okay. Then let me put it this way,” Jean offered. “When has any aspect of this thing with Ed been about something _other_ than Ed?”

Roy puffed gingerly on his cigarette while he considered Jean's question. The bastard had a point and he knew it. Not that Roy minded the way things had developed; he had been so busy trying to help Ed sort out his life--not to mention just wanting to savor whatever precious little time they had together--that there just hadn't been much of an opportunity to talk to the teen about himself. Sure, Ed knew the basics about Maes and Elysia. But that was all. And it wasn't as if he didn't want to share that chapter of his life with Ed. It had just... never happened.

In the end, he could only shrug.

Jean shook his head. “Roy. I know Ed had a lot of shit on his plate, but you're losing your kid here. That's a big goddamn deal.”

“I know that, but--”

“But _nothing_ ,” Jean snapped, kicking him in the thigh for emphasis. “You're about to go through this major fucking life ordeal and you don't want to inconvenience Ed's brand new 90210 status by talking to him about it? There is something _very_ wrong with that.”

“I get what you're saying, Jean,” Roy conceded. “I do. The whole situation is just... I don't know. But once he turns eighteen--”

“Ah, right. The magic age of maturity.” Jean tapped ash into a nearby ashtray. “Because everything will resolve itself once he's legal. He'll move back here and the two of you will get married--because _all_ eighteen-year-old guys want to settle down at that age, of course--and life'll be peachy fucking keen.”

“I really appreciate your poorly worded concern, but just drop it, okay?”

“Fine. It's dropped.”

Roy polished off his drink and stared down at the smoldering cigarette lodged between his fingers. “Do you think all of that doesn't cross my mind every single fucking day?"  
  
Apparently the subject wasn't dropped just yet.  
  
"Sometimes I feel like a selfish prick for wanting him all to myself," Roy went on.  "And it's the same thing with Elysia. I completely understand why Gracia wants her husband to adopt her; I probably should have seen it coming. Siblings deserve to stay together. If something ever happened to Gracia then Elysia would be shipped off to Gracia's parents and the other one would stay with the father. After she told me about it, I couldn't stop thinking about the way Ed and Al were separated their entire lives and how they would have never even known about each other if not for you and your bullshit.”

“You're welcome,” Jean quipped.

Roy smiled wryly. Leave it to Jean to be such a monumental ass in the midst of a poignant moment.

“I know all of this and still, I want them both for myself. Pretty sick, huh?”

“Nah.” Jean shook his head. “I'd say it's pretty human."

“I guess,” Roy said. “And I know it could always be worse, the adoption thing,” he added. “I mean, Gracia's actually willing to put some sort of visitation arrangement in writing, which I never thought she would offer to do, so that's something.”

“That's a pretty damn big something.”

“It is,” Roy agreed. “But it still feels like tomorrow will be the last time that I'll be able to see Elysia and know that she's _mine,_ you know? My little girl.”

Jean sat up with a grunt and scooted close to Roy. He draped an arm around the forlorn man held him tightly in an awkward half-embrace. “As long as _you_ know that she's yours, who gives a shit what some piece of paper says? Isn't that what you're always running your mouth about?”

“Yeah... but that doesn't make it any less painful.” Roy brushed away the ash that had fallen into his lap and reluctantly rested his head on Jean's shoulder. “Good Lord. I can't believe I'm letting you of all people console me like this.  _Again_.”

“Me either,” Jean said.

The two men sat there for a moment, listening to the silence.

“Just to clarify.” Jean glanced at Roy.  “This isn't going to lead to sex by any chance, is it?”

“You're such a fucking pig.”

*****

“I feel like such a fucking pig.”

Ed stared at the oscillating pile of Hot Pocket sleeves stacked on top of the coffee table in fascination... until he realized that he was the one weaving to and fro. The plate on which they had been served was... well, it was God only knew where. However, the almost empty bottle of Goldschläger was right where it had been since he and Alfons had decided to have the one drink that mysteriously turned into many.

_Very_ many.

“I think... we were s'posed to drink before we ate,” Alfons said, wavering beside him.

“You mean drink before we ate,” Ed corrected.

Alfons frowned. “That's what I said... isn't it?”

“... I dunno.”

Ed rested his head against the back of the couch and closed his eyes. While it was true that he and Alfons had drank together before, this was the first time that they had ever done so to such an astonishing degree. But on a positive note, Ed found that his angst over Roy _was_ somewhat diminished. 

“You're sleepin' over,” he said, raising his head and willing it to stop spinning about. "You shouldn't drunk when you're... you know what I mean."

“'Kay,” Alfons mumbled. “Is Al comin' home tonight? If not, I'll just sleep in his bed.”

Since shrugging seemed like a chore of massive proportions, Ed merely let his head fall to one side as if that were somehow a suitable substitute. “No idea. He's with Martel so who knows?”

“Martel...” Alfons closed his eyes and giggled at nothing in particular. “I like her. Except when she hits me.”

“Yeah, she's a good girl.” Ed's head lolled to the other side. “But sometimes... being around her and Al... makes me sad.”

“Roy?” Alfons asked.

Ed's head fell forward--his drunken version of a nod. “I miss him so much, Alfons. I know I sound like a girl and all but... I miss his face... and I miss his voice... and I miss his... _everything_... and... and...”

… and somewhere along the way while he had been talking, Alfons' hand crept ever so casually onto his thigh, sending a muted, but all too distinct warning to his inebriated brain. And just like that, he knew.

“Um... Alfons?”

With tremendous effort, Ed lifted his head. He started to speak again but was silenced by the softest pair of lips he had ever felt. Heat flooded his body, although it was hard to say if it was from the booze or the kiss or the hand slowly rubbing his inner thigh. A tongue slid between his lips and twirled around his, causing him to jolt and moan. No one had ever elicited such a reaction in him except for Roy--

_Roy!_

Ed jerked back and stared at Alfons in horror, over the kiss itself as well as his reaction. And while he racked his considerably sobered mind for something to say, Al came along and summed it up perfectly:

“What _the fuck_ is going on?”


	33. Fallout, Part 1

Ed wondered if it was possible to die from vomiting. He had a feeling he would find out before the night ended.

The teen raised a trembling hand to the toilet handle and pulled it, turning away from the unspeakable horror that had come out of his body that reeked of cinnamon and pepperoni and cheese. He laid his head against the toilet seat, his body gleaning what minuscule amount of comfort it could find from its coolness and presently not caring in the least that it was a resting place intended for the opposite end of the human body.  
  
After being discovered by Al and Russ-- _Russ,_ of all people!--Ed had bolted off the sofa, which he would later realize only made him look even guiltier. He opened his mouth to try and explain the precarious situation in which his brother and friend had found him only to throw up. _Everywhere_. Ed vaguely recalled being roughly hauled off to the bathroom and practically thrown at the toilet, and in his nauseated stupor, he understood that his stomach's unceremonious expulsion of its contents was very likely the only thing that had saved Alfons from a certain ass-kicking.

As well as himself, perhaps.

“Here, drink this,” Al said from behind him, prodding him in the arm with a glass of water. His voice was distant and so unlike his usual sweet self that all Ed could do was squeeze his eyes shut in shame as he took the drink from his brother. He had never been so mortified in his life; not only had he gotten recklessly shitfaced, not only had he let someone other than Roy kiss him, but he liked it. His _body_ did, at least, even if just for a split second. How could he face Al after that? He could hardly stand himself. And if he couldn't even own up to what he had done right now then how on earth was he supposed to face Roy the next time he saw him?

And prior to that, what the hell was he supposed to say to him the next time they spoke over the phone?

A croak was all he could manage.  “Al…”

“Not a good idea right now, Ed,” Al warned. “Just drink your water and go to bed.”

Ed moaned painfully as a fresh wave of self-disgust washed over him, which, for the time being, overrode his churning stomach. He wanted to cry. He wanted to throw up. Again. At that moment, he wasn’t even opposed to dying. 

He had cheated.

He had cheated on Roy.

He had cheated on Roy and gotten caught red-handed by his little brother.

Given all of the above, it was only natural to wonder what could possibly go wrong next. 

Problem was, he was soon going to find out.

*****

Russ gritted his teeth as he continued scrubbing at the floor. He wouldn't have offered to do this for anyone other than Al;the last time his own brother had gotten sick, Russ refused to go near him, so strong was his general distaste of vomit and all things sickly. But for Al, it was a given. 

That aside, there was no way in hell he would have left and missed such a priceless scene. 

He was somewhat pissed off, though, and--in his mind--rightfully so. If he had known that all he had to do was get Ed blind stinking drunk to make out with him… or more… he would have done it ages ago, and it would have been well worth the price of Al’s wrath, which currently seemed more directed at Ed than anyone else. 

Al exited the bathroom and he felt like a bit of a prick for his selfish ruminating; the teen looked so dejected that Russ was starting to feel angry at Ed himself for being the cause. It was never an easy thing to have a front row seat when one’s idol made such a spectacular fall from their pedestal. 

“How is he?” Russ asked, not that he cared all that much. It wasn’t like Ed was going to die. 

“He’ll be fine.” Al came over to him and sat down on the couch. “Where’s the other one?”

Russ tried not to chuckle at Al’s description of Alfons. “I put him in your room. He tried to leave but I took his keys,” he said, patting his pocket. “I think he thinks you’re gearing up to kick his ass or something.”  Russ neglected to mention that this was something he was greatly anticipating.

“I don’t even care right now,” Al said with a sigh. “I don’t want to think about it anymore.”

"Fair enough." Russ offered his friend a clean rag and a smile. “Then get your ass down here and help me.”

*****

Hangover was entirely too subtle of a word to fully describe the all-encompassing state of woe that was Edward Elric the morning after his trip to the land of Goldschläger. The resounding thrum of pain in his head, the rolling churn of his gut, and, still worse, the unbearable ache of guilt in his heart combined for a physical experience like nothing he had ever known before, and he would have gladly spent the entire day in bed to combat it if not for Al’s insistence on being as loud as humanly possible in every single room of the house. 

The teen tumbled out of bed in a heap, cradling his head as he hit the floor. His automail felt so cool against his brow, he never thought he’d be so glad to have it. When standing felt like an option, Ed pulled himself upright and braced himself against his bed on wobbly legs, the room around him cruelly swaying back and forth. Miraculously, he managed his way into the bathroom, where he tried desperately not to think about the night before while he made use of the facilities in a more conventional fashion. When he was finished, he stumbled through the living room and into the kitchen, where Al was putting the finishing touches on what appeared to be a rather decent looking breakfast… all thanks due to the convenience of microwave meals. 

“Sit,” Al instructed, retrieving a carton of orange juice from the refrigerator. 

Ed obediently took a seat at the table while Al served him. While he wasn’t banking on being able to keep anything down that day, everything looked so good that he was willing to try. He closed his eyes and gathered his courage.

“Look, Al--”

“Take these.”

Ed opened his eyes and found an outstretched hand holding two painkillers. He took them and washed them down with a sip of juice, cringing as the cold liquid made its way down to his empty stomach. He blinked away the stinging in his eyes as he set down the glass, then picked up a slice of bacon microwaved to perfection and hoped that it would stay put once he ate it. 

Al sat down across from him, and the brothers embarked on their silent breakfast. Ed glanced at Al, broken up all the more when he saw him picking at his food. He couldn’t bear this monosyllabic, non-eating Al any longer; he wanted _his_ Al, smiling and laughing and talking non-stop about Martel and gorging himself like there was no tomorrow. 

“Al, please--”

“Alfons left about an hour ago. Russ left with him to get a ride home.” Al regarded him coolly. “I didn’t do anything to him, if that’s what you’re worried about.” 

While Ed couldn’t exactly swear that he hadn’t worried about that, especially since Al had proven his violent streak more than once in the past, it was far from the most important thing on his mind.    

“No, it’s not that. It’s just…”

“Just what?”

Ed frowned and tapped a metal finger against the edge of his plate.  “… Do you hate me now?”

“Dumbass.”

This was not the answer that Ed was expecting.

“Of _course_ I don’t hate you. You’re my brother.” Al scowled and shoved half a biscuit into his mouth. “You know,” he said, rinsing it down with a sip of OJ. “All this time, I wondered what I would do if Roy ever hurt you. I never thought...”

“That it would be the other way around,” Ed finished. 

“Do you still love him?”

The question, while perfectly understandable given the situation, still sounded ludicrous in Ed’s ears. 

“Yes.”

Al nodded. “Good.”

The boys continued eating. While Ed didn't display his usual voraciousness, he was certainly doing his part to keep up with Al. When they were finished, they worked together to clear the table, after which Ed planned to crawl back under the covers for as long as he could. Not that he could possibly sleep again; his current worries left him unable to sleep, thereby leaving him with little else to do besides wallow in his physical pain and an overwhelming sense of impending doom. 

“What would you do, Al?” he asked suddenly, pausing as they loaded the last of the dishes into the dishwasher. 

“What do you mean?”

“If Martel told you that she got drunk and made out with someone. What would you do?”

Ed could almost see the wheels spinning as Al tried to come up with an answer that would console him, and he loved him for it. Regrettably, he already had a damn good idea of what his brother would _really_ do… and God help any poor bastard who made the mistake of coming between Al and Martel. 

“Forget it. It doesn’t matter,” he said. He ran his left hand through his loose blond hair, working out some of the morning tangle. “I’m going back to bed for a little while.”

“Go for it.” Al offered him a reluctant smile. It wasn't his usual shiny, happy smile, but it was a start.

*****

As a sitcom played in the background, Izumi realized that laughter had never been a common occurrence in her own life. Such a loud, open display of something depicting amusement and, ultimately, happiness--how completely useless. No, nothing like that for her. Looking back, had she ever even indulged in such a thing? If she had, it was too far back to remember.

And she was too far gone to care.

Everything was in order now; Lou had helped her to see to that. The way the man managed to pull strings was impressive… and somewhat scary. He had given her so much that she could never return, even if she had lived to try, namely offering her a small hint of beauty in a life that had been marred by ugliness and abuse. The time would soon come when she would be sending him away for good, but for now, for just a little while longer, she wanted him by her side. Selfish? Absolutely. But it was a harmless sin, one that sat weightlessly on her otherwise darkened conscience. And that was okay with her.

She ran a frail hand along her stomach, trying to imagine what it would have looked like with a feeding tube extending from it, as Lou had suggested when it became clear that she was no longer able to tolerate even a liquid diet. She bore him no ill will for the thought--for he was selfish too--but no. No, no, no. Even if not precisely on her own terms, Izumi was going to leave this world here, in her own bed, with nothing poking or protruding from her. Period. 

But first, there was one last thing she needed to do.

“Izumi?” Lou, who was never more than a room away anymore, poked his head into the bedroom. “Do you need anything?”

Although she was still capable of speaking, Izumi decided to save her breath for her words of farewell, and so instead, she nodded. She raised her left hand, palm side up, and with her right, made a series of scribbling motions.

“Pen and paper? Right away, milady.”

She closed her eyes and smiled through a rather annoying sting of tears as the gentle giant ran off to do her bidding. Oh, how she would miss that man. 

No sooner had he left did he return, with a legal pad attached to a clipboard and a couple of blue ink pens. Izumi didn’t remember having any of that in the house save for the pens, but with Lou? A girl could very well learn to believe in magic.

“Anything else?” he asked.

Izumi shook her head and shoed him away… completely caught off guard when Lou took her hand and held it briefly before letting go. He then smiled warmly and left the room.

She could still feel the heat of him against her skin. If only she could take it with her.

Pushing away the sentiment, Izumi picked up the pen and poised it over the paper. She frowned briefly at her hesitation, but it wasn’t for lack of words. As a matter of fact, she had thought of little else as her time dwindled away. She knew exactly what she had to say.

But she also realized that in doing what she was about to do, it really was over and done. Even though she had seen it coming all this time, she was still momentarily taken aback by the stark finality of it all. 

Her life, her _existence_ , was finished. 

And with that singular thought in mind, neither frightening nor peaceful, she proceeded, carefully writing each word as she had planned. When she was finished, she neatly folded the pages with jittery fingers and held it as if it was a rare and precious thing. And it was, after all, as it held testament to the one sparse shred of humanity she had managed to salvage before the end. 

She could only hope that he would see it in the same light. One day.

Izumi nodded and smiled sadly.

Her work was now done. 

*****

“Be straight with me.”

_Interesting choice of words,_ Russ thought as he stared across the restaurant table at a disheveled Alfons Heiderich. 

He had offered the hungover teen breakfast as a gesture of kindness for giving him a ride home, but in truth, Russ was also seeking any info he could get on what had happened with Ed. Standard story so far, two friends getting together, getting drunk, and so on. Once again, Russ could have kicked his own ass for failing to indulge in such a common teenage pastime with Ed. The opportunity was right there in his face the whole time.

“About what?” he asked, salting his eggs and grinning as Alfons looked at the sunny side-ups and made a rather amusing sound of disgust.

Alfons stared down at his pancakes. “Is Al going to kick my ass or something?”

“Any other time, I would have said yes.” Russ pierced the perfect yellow circle and smeared yolk over the egg whites. “Speaking from experience,” he added.

“So I’ve heard.”

“But I think he’s probably more pissed at Ed than you,” Russ theorized. “It wasn’t like he was trying to stop you or anything, and I think that makes all the difference.”

Alfons ate a small bite of the pancakes, sans syrup; his stomach would not allow such extravagance today. “Al really seems to like that Roy guy.”

Russ snorted bitterly. “Yeah.”

“You don’t?”

“He’s alright. For an old man,” Russ conceded, surprising even himself. “It’s not that I don’t like him, it’s just that…”

“You want Ed?”

Russ gnawed on a slice of toast and contemplated Alfons’ question. Not that there was much to contemplate.

“Yeah, I do.”

“Kinda hard not to,” Alfons agreed. “Even though he can’t even see why anyone would. Silly.”

“I know, right?”

Russ closed his mouth with a snap and a frown. No, he was most certainly not sitting there and having a moment of fellowship with this guy over their mutual adoration of Ed. Hell no. Fuck that. 

But yet, when Alfons smiled at him, all big blue-eyed and… ugh… _cute_ … damn it all if his lips didn’t twitch in response.

This guy was going to be quite the adversary, yes, indeed.

*****

As suspected, Ed hadn’t been able to go back to sleep at all that day for his mind being overrun with thoughts of how he would tell Roy what had happened. And now as evening fell, he sat on the edge of his bed with his phone in his hand and his heart pounding. He would be lying if he said that the thought of not telling Roy at all had never crossed his mind. But that was something he could never do. Just… never. Ed supposed that he should take some small measure of comfort in the fact that he wasn’t a liar, but it wasn’t working. And he couldn’t wait, as much as he wished he could. Ed feared he would never be able to function again until he did this--no eating, no sleeping, nothing. 

He had to do this now. For both their sakes. 

“Please, God…” the teen whispered as he dialed Roy’s number, bitterly humored by resorting to calling on a Deity in Whom he hardly believed. Ed nervously swept back his hair and pressed the phone to his ear, squeezing his eyes shut as he heard the sound of ringing and hating himself for hoping that Roy wasn’t home.

“ _Hey there.”_

“Hey.” For the first time, Ed found little comfort in the smooth sound of his lover’s voice, and that made him even sadder. “Is it a bad time?”

_“Not at all. I do have some company right now--I’ll get that when I’m done, Leesee--but no, never a bad time if it’s you. You should know that.”_

“Oh shit, you have your daughter. I’ll let you go.”

_“Ed, it’s fine.”_

“No, it’s not.”

No way, there was absolutely _no way_ that Ed was about to ruin such a rare and happy family moment for Roy. “Just call me later, it’s not a big--” He didn't want to lie, so he deflected. “Look, call me later, okay?”

_“… What’s wrong, Ed?”_

“Just call me later, Roy. Please?”

_“No, and if you hang up, I’ll call you right back. Hold on--Elysia, I’m going into the kitchen to talk, okay?”_

Ed was half-tempted to end the call in spite of Roy’s protests.  Instead, he pulled his feet up into his bed and curled into a ball as he listened to the sound of Roy’s footsteps and waited. 

_“I'm back. What’s going on?”_

The teen took a deep breath and clutched the phone tightly. How the hell was he supposed to begin a conversation that in no conceivable way, shape, or form was going to end anything other than badly?

_“Ed, I'm starting to worry. Did something happen to Al?”_

“No… not to Al.”

_“To you?”_

Ed's heart broke over the concern in Roy's voice.  This was a nightmare, pure and simple.

 “Well… yeah. See… and just hear me out, okay?”

_“… Okay.”_

“Thing of it is… last night… Alfons and I got… kinda drunk… and then…”

*****

Al felt that he had waited long enough. While he hadn’t explicitly been eavesdropping, he felt it only necessary to be at least somewhat mindful of what was happening. 

And it hadn’t sounded good. Not at all.

Without bothering to knock, he opened the bedroom door and looked at his brother’s face, and any residual anger he had over Ed’s unfathomable stupidity vanished instantly. 

Al walked over to the bed and sat down beside him. “What’d he say?”

Ed turned to Al with a look that made the younger teen want to cry.

“He said he had to go. And he did.”

“He just hung up?” 

“Yeah.” Ed nodded slowly. “He just… hung up.”

“Oh, Ed…”  
  
Al crawled into the bed and hunkered down beside him, resting his head against a cool automail shoulder.  As much as he wanted to find some iota of fault with Roy for Ed's present state, he couldn’t. Earlier that day, Ed had asked him what he would have done in a similar situation and thankfully, he had gotten away without giving an answer, because he had _no idea_ what he would have said. If Martel had broken his trust like that, Al honestly wasn’t sure if he could have forgiven such a thing. Ever. 

Not exactly something Ed needed to hear.

“I’m so sorry,” he said instead.

“What the hell am I gonna do if I lose him?”

Al scooted closer to Ed and sighed softly.

He didn’t have an answer to that question, either.


	34. Fallout, Part 2

_Thing of it is… last night… Alfons and I got… kinda drunk…_

“Daddy Roy?”

_… and then…_

“Daddy Roy, what’s wrong?”

The sound of Elysia’s small, worried voice sliced through the haze in Roy’s mind. He forced the corners of his lips upward in a gesture that had been completely natural only ten minutes before, feigning a smile that was thankfully returned without question or hesitation; their time together was quickly drawing to a close and he wanted to make the most of it. 

“I’m fine,” he said, praying like hell that his voice sounded as nonchalant as he was desperately trying to make it. “How about a pizza for dinner tonight?”

Elysia’s eyes brightened at the offer. “And ice cream for dessert?” she asked hopefully.

“Of course.”

The child squealed happily and turned back to the video game, eagerly looking forward to being further spoiled and satisfied that all was right with the world. Now that he was no longer under observation, Roy’s smile faded. He wasn't sure how much longer he could have kept it up.

_… we kissed._

A fresh bolt of pain tore through him as Ed’s confession played over and over in his head. He closed his eyes and covered his face, trying to absorb the overwhelming shock of his lover’s admission. 

This wasn’t happening. It _couldn’t_ be happening. Because Ed loved him.

... Didn't he?

“Aw, Wario beat me,” Elysia mumbled as she used her controller to steer her own Kart towards its second place finish. “Stupid cheater Wario!”

Heaving a huge sigh, Roy lowered his hands. He opened his eyes and stared blindly at the video game that had enraptured his daughter. On top of everything else, he was now struck with a sudden onslaught of guilt for sitting there and wallowing in his own sadness and misery when he should have been--and up until a certain phone call, _had_ been--curled up next to her on the floor, playing that silly game right alongside her. Such priceless moments, which had always been so few and far between to begin with, would soon be gone, and he needed to embrace them because it would be a long time before he had the chance to do it again. He knew this… but yet…

No. But yet nothing. This wasn’t fair to Elysia, even if she didn’t realize she was presently being shorted his attention. Roy would have plenty of time to contemplate what Ed had done, more time than wanted. But for now, no one else in the world mattered more than Elysia. Not himself, not Ed, _no one._

“Well, I suppose we’ll just have to show that jerk a thing or two,” he said, sliding off the couch and onto the floor. Roy scooted next to the youngster and accepted the outstretched spare controller. He then leaned down and kissed the top of Elysia’s head, and when he caught a whiff of the clean, sweet scent of her hair, he was seized by a fierce and sudden stinging in his eyes. How he _hated_ having to let her go. Again.   

“Alright then.” Roy cleared his throat and turned to the television screen, blinking rapidly to get the images to focus. “You’re the pear, right?”

Elysia’s laughter rang throughout the living room. Even in the face of his dilemma, Roy didn’t think there was a more precious sound. 

“I’m Princess _Peach_ , Daddy Roy,” she clarified. “Who are you gonna pick?”

“Let’s see…” Roy toggled through the available selections and settled on Donkey Kong, which made Elysia laugh even harder. 

“Silly monkey,” she managed through a fit of giggles. 

They started a new race. Elysia was right; that Wario was a dirty, cheating bastard and it took seven tries for Roy to finally beat him. They stopped playing long enough to order and eat a sinfully adorned pizza and an ungodly amount of chocolate ice cream, and spent the rest of the evening in a Mario Kart stupor, during which Roy memorized every smile, smirk, and titter of the child who was and would always be his very own, no matter what some piece of paper had to say about it.

Looking back, it was one of the happiest nights of his life. Broken heart and all. 

*****

Gracia had been gracious enough to arrive almost a full hour after she said she would, during which time Roy and Elysia had curled up on the living room couch with juice boxes and a bag of chips between them, flipping through an old, familiar book that called to mind a time in both of their lives that had ended entirely too soon.

To this day, even with his glasses, Roy _still_ had trouble finding that damn Waldo. 

“There you go,” he said now, reaching into the car and buckling the child’s seatbelt. Putting on a brave front was a bit of a challenge, because damned if he didn’t miss her already, but it wasn’t as bad as it could have been.  At least this time, he knew there would be a next time.  “Now make sure you call me when you get back, okay? No matter what time it is. Deal?”

“Deal.” Elysia smiled and pressed the palm of her tiny hand against Roy’s cheek. “Daddy Roy, you promise you’re gonna come see me when you don’t have school?”

Roy covered the little girl’s hand with his own and closed his eyes briefly, concentrating on the warmth of each fragile digit. “I promise.” He leaned forward and kissed her forehead before reluctantly withdrawing from the vehicle and closing the door. He then walked around to the driver’s side of the car, where Gracia stood by the door, waiting patiently. And for the first time in… _ever_ , really… he didn't feel any animosity towards the woman, nor did he sense it in return. They would never be friends--too much had happened for that. However, Roy no longer considered her an enemy. 

“Have a safe trip,” he said, extending his hand. A first.

“Thanks,” she replied, taking him up on his offer. 

They shook hands briefly, sealing the deal on a new, tentative peace between them. Roy stepped back, giving Gracia room to get into the car, before bidding his daughter a final farewell. He remained in the driveway as they left, watching the car until it was out of sight. And while he was sad to see Elysia go, so very sad, this marked the first time that he felt any hint of real optimism that he wouldn’t be shut completely out of her life, and for that, he was thankful.  

He went inside, trying hard not to dwell on the silence that always seemed greatest just after she was gone. But in doing so, his mind turned to something even more unpleasant. Now that he was alone, he had a feeling that he would be focusing on little else, and he would need to deal with it lest he go directly out of his mind. Roy plopped down tiredly on the couch and gazed at the dark television, his prior sense of foreboding now freely running roughshod over his mind and his heart as he thought about the unthinkable:

Ed had gotten drunk and kissed another guy.

Even now, the older man could feel himself seeking to use the former to justify the latter. But no, in the end, as much as he wanted to, he just wasn’t buying it. He couldn’t. How many times had Roy gotten falling down drunk around Jean? And none of those times had ever resulted in anything untoward. Short of his being unconscious and Jean being  _Jean_ nothing would have ever happened between them, no matter how drunk they were. The attraction just wasn’t there.

… Apparently this wasn’t the case for Ed?

Wincing at the pain in his heart, Roy leaned back and let his head come to rest on the back of the couch, blinking up at the living room ceiling and feeling like a goddamn fool. A hurt goddamn fool. An _old_ goddamn fool. How else was he supposed to feel when faced with what was essentially a validation of the biggest concern he had with regards to his relationship with Ed--that the gaps between them were too wide to ever truly be bridged? Roy was in his thirties. He wanted to settle down and build a life with his partner. Ed was a kid. And what almost-eighteen-year-old kid wanted that? Roy sure as hell hadn't when he was that age.

So why was he expecting it of Ed? 

He reached for the phone on the stand beside him, knocking over his and Elysia’s empty juice boxes while doing so, then brought it to his lap, gripping it tightly, his teeth clenched and his heart hammering wildly. After a few agonizing moments, he raised the phone to his face and dialed Ed’s cell, steeling himself for a conversation he never dreamed he would be having.

*****

“So then what’d you say?”

With a cigarette dangling precariously from his lips, as usual, Jean opened a bottle of beer and took a long swig. Roy, on the other hand, was sticking with water tonight; he had no desire to imbibe right now. 

His second talk with Ed had gone… well, not better, exactly. The end result was what it was; nothing would have changed that. But as opposed to the first time around, Roy gave the teen a chance to tell his story from the start, not that it was all that complicated: boy and friend get drunk, boy and friend kiss, boy remembers he is otherwise involved, boy vomits. The end. To be fair, Ed _did_ feel guilty. That much was obvious even without the numerous broken-voiced apologies, each of which cut through Roy like a dagger. But while he gleaned some comfort from his lover’s remorse, it really didn’t change the bigger issue, the issue he had avoided long enough.

“I told him that I needed some time to think,” he replied, staring down into a half-empty box of chow mein. Eating wasn’t high on his list of priorities tonight, either. 

Jean ground out his cigarette and peered down into his own box. He picked out a piece of beef and popped it into his mouth. “Well, Chief, for what it’s worth… I’m really sorry this happened.”

Roy shrugged off the apology and helped himself to one of Jean’s cigarettes. “What, no I-told-you-so’s?”

“Nope.” Jean lit a fresh cigarette and dragged deeply. “It’s no fun if there’s no sport in it.” He pushed the ashtray between them and took another lengthy drag. What Jean neglected to add was that he felt as if there would be _plenty_ of sport in beating the shit out of Ed for what he had done and, if ever given the chance, he just might. But such aspirations of violence were the last thing Roy needed to hear. 

“Look at you, being all grown up,” Roy mocked, smiling softly. 

Jean snorted bitterly. “Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

The two friends finished their cigarettes in silence. When they were finished, Jean downed the rest of his beer and cleared off the table, earning a dig from Roy that such a monumental event should be documented for posterity, which in turn earned Roy a middle finger. Afterwards, Jean lit yet another smoke and grabbed his keys. He glanced at his watch and then at Roy, who was busy shoving a few last minute things into the overnight bag sitting on the sofa. 

“What time does your flight leave?” he asked.

“Seven-thirty. I should get there a little after nine.” Roy zipped the bag closed and slung it over his shoulder. He then grabbed the phone and proceeded to set up the call forwarding option in case Elysia attempted to reach him before he returned. “Could you get the kitchen light for me?”

Jean obediently turned off the lights in the kitchen and met his former lover by the front door. “Hey,” he said, carefully appraising him. “Are you sure about this?” 

Roy shook his head as he opened the door and turned off the living room lights.

“Not one fucking bit.”

“Well, you better figure it out. Fast.” Ever the gentleman, Jean grabbed the bag from Roy and stood back, extending his hand. “After you.”

*****

Russ still wasn’t exactly certain how quality time with his little brother had turned into quality time with his brother _and_ Alfons, but even so, there they were, the three of them, taking in a pre-movie meal at a local family-style restaurant. Not that Fletcher seemed to mind at all; the kid was beaming like an idiot over the whole outing, which once again made Russ feel like a douchebag for not indulging him more often. The bitch of it was that _Russ_ minded, dammit. He minded a lot... which was why he still couldn’t figure out why he had invited Alfons along to begin with. 

It had all started innocently enough: Alfons had called him to thank him for breakfast--the nerve of him--and in turn, Russ had asked him if he wanted to tag along to the movies with him and Fletcher. It seemed like a good enough idea at the time; after what happened with Ed, it didn’t seem likely that Alfons would be welcome over at his house anytime soon. But still, what the fuck? This guy was, for all intents and purposes, a rival, one who had already gone somewhere Russ so desperately wanted to go himself. He should be hating on him and plotting some sort of bloody revenge, not sitting there, side-by-side in a booth, having a halfway decent time. It didn’t make a damn lick of sense.

“So is this movie any good?” Alfons asked between sips of soda. “I haven’t heard anything about it.”

“It got great reviews,” Fletcher said. He dipped a French fry into a lake of ketchup and popped it into his mouth. “Everyone says Leo is awesome in it.”

Russ frowned and pierced a shrimp with his fork. “Leonardo DiCaprio can suck my balls,” he grumbled. 

Fletcher gaped at his brother, horrified--but not surprised. After a few moments of awkward silence, Alfons turned to Russ and placed a hand on his shoulder. 

“Maybe one day, Russ. If you’re lucky.”

Throughout Fletcher's endless guffawing, which he would come to regret at a later time, Alfons smiled sweetly, his blue eyes twinkling with devious merriment, and Russ was appalled when he felt the corners of his mouth turn upward. After all, when one went to such great lengths to be an asshole, it was a bit disconcerting to have someone come along and prove his efforts useless in one fell swoop.  

“Shut up,” he mumbled, brushing off the offending hand. 

Russ shoved the shrimp into his mouth and chewed studiously, lest his traitorous lips act of their own accord once more.  He felt a distinct sense of disdain at the thought of having to endure Alfons’ company for the next few hours… and that the disdain felt suspiciously like anticipation meant nothing. Nothing at all.

*****

For Alphonse Elric, there normally would have been very little in life that topped having the girl of his dreams snuggled against him while they gorged on popcorn and watched TV… and it certainly had nothing to do with the fact that a couple of particularly lovely assets were pressed against his upper arm, breaking his brain. That was just an added perk.

But in spite of all the brain breakage, Al was still very worried about Ed. After talking to Roy again earlier in the day--the fact that he had called at all was something--Ed had remained in his bedroom and refused to come out. From what the teen had told him, the conversation seemed pretty cut and dry: Ed told him what happened and Roy told him he needed time to think. Completely understandable. But Ed was scared, and rightfully so. Al himself had never been shitfaced, puke-on-the-carpet drunk (and after that night’s display, he never planned on it) but he just couldn’t begin to understand how one could forget their beloved, even for a second, no matter _how_ incoherent they were. It just didn’t seem possible.   

In the end, all that mattered was that his brother was hurting and there was nothing he could say or do to fix it. Even if he wanted to, going after Alfons wouldn’t solve a damn thing. And the one person who _really_ deserved a good kick in the ass for what had happened was the one person who was already being punished enough.   

“I’m gonna get a drink,” he said, getting up. “Do you want anything?”

“I’ll take a Diet Coke if you have one.” Martel stood and stretched her long legs. “And a boyfriend who isn’t moping about something that’s way beyond his control. If you can find one, that is.”

Al smiled. She had a way with words. “I think we keep an extra one of those in the freezer.”

“Smartass.”

The two teens kissed briefly as the doorbell sounded. 

“Will you get the door?” Al asked. “It’s probably Russ. I thought he was hanging out with Fletcher tonight but maybe he changed his mind.”

Al walked into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. After nosing around for a minute, carefully pushing aside a few items whose time had long come and gone, he grabbed a Coke for himself and a Diet Coke for Martel. Then, upon further consideration, he grabbed another Coke for Russ. Lastly, he added one to the bundle for Ed, in case he finally decided to venture out of his room. He couldn’t stay shut in forever. Well, he might try, but Al wasn’t about to let him.

He kicked the door to the fridge shut, dropping one of the bottles of Coke in the process, where it hit the floor with a mighty thud. Russ could have that one. Al picked it up and made his way back into the living room, where he almost dropped everything upon seeing Roy standing there…

*****

… and smiling kindly at the gaping teen. 

“Hi, Al. I’m sorry I didn’t call first.”

“No, that’s fine. You know you can come over whenever you want,” Al insisted, chuckling nervously. “I’m just surprised to see you here so fast.”

“You took a plane?” Martel asked. She wasn't ogling Roy outright, but she was getting close.

“I did.” Roy’s eyes darted around the living room. “Is Ed here?”

“Yeah, he’s in his room. Go on back. Martel and I were just about to leave.”

This, of course, was news to Martel. “We were?”

“Yes, we were,” Al replied, shooting her a glance.

“Why, yes, we were,” Martel quickly agreed, catching on. She grabbed her purse and turned off the television. “I’ll just go start the car,” she said, giving Roy a polite nod before exiting the house. 

“The two of you are the definition of subtle,” Roy joked.

Al grinned sheepishly. “Sorry. Here, one for you and one for Ed.” He handed him two Cokes. “Listen, Roy,” he began, his voice growing serious. “I know what my brother did was just… absolutely… fucking… _stupid._  But you know he loves you, right?” 

Roy nodded solemnly. “Yes, Al, I know.”

“Alright. Just making sure. Oh, and you may want to wait a minute or two before you open that one,” the teen said, tapping the bottle that had fallen. And with that, he made a speedy exit. 

With that behind him, the older man turned around, and was hardly surprised at all to see a pair of golden eyes watching him from the hallway. Ed entered the living room, and Roy was taken aback by the magnitude of the desolation on his young face. 

“Hello, Ed.”

“… You’re not staying,” the teen surmised, noting the man’s lack of any sort of baggage. 

“No. I’m leaving pretty early in the morning so I thought it would be best if I stayed at a hotel,” Roy explained. 

“Oh. Okay.”

Their eyes met briefly before Ed’s gaze fell to the floor and Roy wanted _so desperately_ to go over to him and hold him. The urge was so strong that it took a gargantuan act of will to refrain from doing it. Ed moved over to the couch and Roy followed suit, where they took seats at opposite ends, and Roy’s heart wrenched at the space between them that felt entirely too large. He set aside the bottles of Coke and folded his hands neatly in his lap, for fear of using them to grab onto the teen and never let him go. Because it still wasn’t too late to take back the decision he’d made on the plane.   
  
It wasn’t… but he couldn’t. He _wouldn't._  
  
The time for selfishness was over. 

As if sensing this, the teen spoke up in a tone that made Roy hate himself for what he was about to do… what he _had_ to do… and the last thing in the world he _wanted_ to do. 

“You… You’re here to break up with me.” Ed head was down, his face shielded by a veil of blond hair. 

Roy stared down at his clasped hands. He’d thought of little else besides this moment for the past two hours, and now that it was here, he was still no closer to knowing exactly how to handle it. The only thing he _did_ know, however, was that he couldn’t sugarcoat his way around the things he needed to say.  This was going to hurt enough without any unnecessary bullshit. God, was it ever. 

And so, as his heart yelled, screamed, and begged him not to do so, Roy closed his eyes, opened his mouth, and confirmed the teen’s worst fear:

“Yes, I am.”


	35. From Bad to Worse

For all of the suffering that Ed had ever endured in his young life, he found that none of it compared to this, sitting there, less than four feet away from the person he loved more than damn near anything in the world, and hearing that person say that their relationship was over before it really ever had a chance to begin. It was a special kind of pain, one that made him ache in a way that nothing else ever could, one that started in his heart and carved a jagged path to his stomach, making him want to double over and scream.  
  
Instead, he could only sit there, staring into the empty space of the living room and ignoring the deceitful stinging in his eyes, his hands in his lap and balled into fists as Roy told him that they were through. It was a good thing that Roy kept talking; Ed didn’t trust himself to form words at the moment. Not when all he wanted to do was swear and yell and, most damning of all, cry.  
  
Agony was what this was. Absolute agony.  
  
“I need you to know, Ed, that this isn’t  _specifically_  because of what happened with your friend.” Roy stared straight ahead, perhaps looking at the same bit of nothing that Ed was seeing, his expression unimaginably sad, and he let out a sigh that seemed to last forever. “But it did cause me to finally confront some things that I should have confronted right from the start. Things that… I guess I didn’t _want_ to confront because… I was… I didn’t… I just didn’t want to lose you. I put what I wanted ahead of everything else, including what was best for you. And I can’t do that anymore.”  
  
“So this is for me…” Ed felt like throwing up all over again.  
  
“Edward.” Roy paused, giving the teen just enough time to die a little bit more inside, hearing Roy say his name like that. “Your life is just beginning, in so many ways, and there’s a whole world out there for you to experience. I don’t want you to regret being tied down to me before you had the opportunity to start living.”  
  
“I don’t care about any of that.”  
  
“You say you don’t. And right now, at this moment, I believe you mean that. I really do. But you don’t know how you’re going to feel five or  ten years down the road. Or even a year from now. You have no idea. I’ve already gone through the pain of losing someone I love. Twice, actually.” Roy shook his head and sighed again. “I don’t… I don’t think I could bear going through that again, especially because you woke up one day and realized you didn’t want to be with me anymore.”  
  
Ed finally brought himself to turn and look at Roy. This was all wrong. They should have been laughing, cuddling, fucking, _anything_ other than sitting there and discussing why breaking up was the right thing to do. Even if he understood what Roy was getting at, an understanding that made a sickening sort of sense deep, deep down, it was still wrong.  
  
“That’s not going to happen,” he insisted.  
  
“Once again, I believe you mean that. Right now.” Roy met Ed’s eyes and how Ed wasn’t all but tackling him, holding onto him until he relented, was a miracle. “But even ignoring the very real issue of the distance between us, and the fact that you have your family here, most kids… most _people_ your age… they aren’t thinking about settling down with someone old enough to be their father or being a part-time parent.”  
  
Although his heart was breaking, Ed found he could still summon some measure of defensiveness to point out: “I’m not most people.”  
  
Roy smiled faintly. “Yes, I know.”  
  
He reached out across the couch and cupped Ed’s jaw, and used his thumb to wipe away the one tear that Ed was unable to stop from falling. Ed wanted to push him away, he wanted to be mad, he wanted to shout, he wanted to rage… but in the end, all he could do was close his eyes and lean into Roy’s touch and pray that it wasn’t just his imagination telling him that the man’s hand was lingering there purposely against his face. If he could just hold onto that, and figure out what the hell to say or do next, then maybe—  
  
“I should go.”  
  
Ed instinctively seized Roy’s wrist with his left hand. He could feel a rapid pulse against his fingertips.  
  
“Ed, please…”  
  
“No.”  
  
“Let me go.”  
  
_“No.”_  
  
How could he, when he could hear the resolve in Roy’s voice melting away? A slight shift of the head and he was kissing the palm of Roy’s hand, and his heart rejoiced upon hearing a sharp intake of breath at the touch of his lips. It was a shitty move on his part, if leaving was what Roy _really_ wanted to do, but so what? Roy was hardly the only selfish one in the room.  
  
Ed opened his eyes to find that Roy had closed his, his brow creased in a frown, and that was okay because he was still _there_ , there was still an opportunity to make this whole thing go away…  
  
… until Al walked into the house, inadvertently obliterating the last bit of magic that had postponed the inevitable. Roy slipped out of Ed’s grasp and stood up quickly, and Ed knew that he had lost.  
  
“I’m… I’m sorry, guys,” Al said, looking uncertainly between the two of them. “Martel forgot her cell phone. I’ll just be a second.”  
  
“Don’t worry about it. I was just leaving.” Roy’s voice was low and thick, and he couldn’t quite bring himself to look Al in the face as he gave him a token ruffle of the hair. “Goodbye Al,” he muttered, and then stepped quickly out of the house, never once looking back.  
  
Al blinked stupidly at the door for a moment before turning around to face Ed. “What the hell just happened. Ed? _Ed?_ ”  
  
Ed was only vaguely aware of the sound of his name being called.  
  
Conversely, he was all too tragically aware of the fact that whatever could have been gleaned from that one chance moment would never come to pass.  
  
Roy was gone.  
  
*****  
  
Russ Tringham was irritated. This would never be late breaking news to anyone.  
  
For starters, Fletcher and Alfons were right--the movie was pretty good. But fuck if he was about to admit it. Nope, better just to sit there and stew, and try not to express a hint excitement when something awesome happened on the screen. Which was, unfortunately, often.  
  
There was also the small matter of having been sandwiched between the two other teens. Normally, such a thing would not have irked in and of itself. However, at some point during the timeless battle of armrest dominance, Russ found himself brushing up against Alfons’ arm and hand more than once.  
  
Which brought him to the most irritating thing of all: he kind of iked it.  
  
Damn it, he didn’t even want to like this guy at all, let alone like _that_. But be that as it may, Russ couldn’t deny the utterly disgusting tingle he felt when they touched, making him feel all gross and fluttery inside, like this was some sort of fucking date instead of an impromptu night out with his rival for the affections of a person who would never give either of them the time of day.  
  
He jammed a fistful of popcorn into his mouth to camouflage his scowl. He hated Alfons for being so stupid and nice and funny and generally not a bad guy, and he hated Ed for refusing to fall madly in love/lust with him. While he was at it, he also decided that he still hated Leonardo DiCaprio for no longer sucking balls. Worst of all, though, he hated himself for wanting _not_ to hate all of the above.  
  
It was going to be a long rest of the night.  
  
As it turned out, he didn’t know the half of it.  
  
*****  
  
Riza should have known better than to agree to a blind date at a bar of all places, but she still held on to the foolish hope that one of these times, she would not meet some annoying prick of a man.  
  
Tonight was not one of these times.  
  
After she sent him running, by way of fumbling around in her purse and “accidentally” revealing her handgun, she decided to stick around. Sure, there were tests to grade and plans to make, but tonight, she didn’t want to think about any of that. Tonight, Ms. Hawkeye--or “The Hawk” as the kids called her, unaware that she was _very_ aware of it--was out of commission.  
  
She took a healthy swig of beer and tucked a lock of blond hair behind her ear, ignoring the appreciative glances all around her and smiling to herself as she imagined doing some target practice on their asses. Times like these, she almost wished she was a lesbian… not that she hadn’t given it an honest shot during her college years. But alas, she loved the cock. Not enough to hop into the sack with any jerkoff, but enough to keep her from switching teams permanently.  
  
After polishing off her drink, Riza left the table and made her way to the bar. One more and she would call it a night. Maybe two. Possibly three. Didn’t really matter anyway since it took what amounted to an entire keg to even give her a respectable buzz. She spotted an empty seat and approached it. To the right was a woman babbling away on her cell phone and to the left was a man who appeared to be well on his way to drunk, if the glasses lined up in front of him were any indication. None of her business, but still, she briefly wondered how in the hell he was getting home.  
  
Because she was polite (when not brandishing guns at assholes) she tapped him on the shoulder and asked, “Mind if I sit?”  
  
The man turned and stared at her, and even though he looked like he had just lost his best friend and his dog and everything else befitting a country song, Riza couldn’t help but notice that he was pretty fucking gorgeous. Surely there had to be a catch. Considering her luck, a guy this good-looking was probably gay.  
  
“Help yourself.” For goodness sake, even his _voice_ was gorgeous, half-slurred and all.  
  
And so she sat and ordered another beer. She downed half of it before deciding that the chatty woman on the phone was irritating her and attempted to make small talk with her other neighbor. She wasn’t usually so forward, but nothing ventured, nothing gained, right? Besides, if things got icky, it wasn’t as if she couldn't just get the hell out of Dodge.  
  
“What brings you out tonight?” she asked.  
  
“I broke up with my boyfriend.”  
  
Riza blinked at the handsome man with the miserable face.  
  
Then she laughed.  
  
And laughed and laughed some more.  
  
“I’m glad that amuses you,” the man said, standing up.  
  
“I’m sorry. I swear I’m not laughing at you. I just hate proving myself right.” She wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand and gave her horrified new friend an apologetic smile. “You know what? I think we _both_ need another drink. On me.”  
  
The stranger regarded her suspiciously. Eventually, he sat down. “Thanks… uh…”  
  
“Riza. Riza Hawkeye.” Riza offered her hand.  
  
“Roy Mustang.” He obliged.  
  
Riza knocked back the rest of her beer and ordered another round. She tapped her bottle against Roy’s glass and they both took a generous chug of their respective beverages. After she was finished, Riza suppressed an overwhelming urge to belch and instead, swiveled her stool until she was facing Roy and propped an elbow on the top of the bar.  
  
“So, Roy Mustang… do you want to talk about it?”  
  
*****  
  
Roy took another sip of his drink--he felt almost obligated to since the woman had outdone him in one go--and contemplated her offer.  
  
Although he was still sober enough to know that there were certain details best left undisclosed, he realized that yes, yes he did want to talk about it.  
  
He _needed_ to talk about it.  
  
And so he did.  
  
*****  
  
Al and Martel had finally left--again--about twenty minutes ago, and not nearly soon enough as far as Ed was concerned. He knew that they meant well, staying there to make sure he didn’t do anything stupid, sitting on opposite ends of the couch like he and Roy had… like they… like…  
  
Ed winced at the memory. He was curled up on a nearby chair and staring at the empty couch, and found himself wondering if Al or Hohenheim would be pissed if he torched the damn thing. It was a horrible thought and he hated himself for thinking it. So instead, he thought of his mother, and how she had looked sitting there in that same spot, all smiling and beautiful, even when she was sick and dying, and while it did soothe his immediate urge to destroy things, it also made him even sadder. There were already more than enough times when he missed her so much that he could hardly bear it.  
  
If there was a God, or an Anything, then how cruel was it of Them to bring him out of despair, tease him with happiness, and take it away again? First with his mother, now with Roy…  
  
At some point, Ed’s vision had doubled, then trebled, and he blinked rapidly to bring things back into focus. He refused to cry. Crying was _not_ an option.  
  
Anyway. Al and Martel had sat… there… with all that space between them, like they didn’t want to touch in any way, lest Ed have some sort of breakdown over being reminded that their relationship was perfectly intact. It was sweet in its own stupid way, the way Al always thought of him. Al was always sweet like that, and yes, Ed realized that he was clinging to the thought of his brother to avoid thinking about other things, but so be it, because he wasn’t ready to face the stark reality that Roy had just willfully, and literally, walked out of his life.  
  
He grabbed the remote and turned on the TV, and increased the volume in an effort to drown out his thoughts. The sound was so loud that he almost didn’t hear his cell phone, which was lying on the small stand by his seat… and not because he was still holding out hope that Roy would call him and take it all back, no, not at all, even though his heart skipped a few beats when he heard the phone ring and he almost dropped it twice in his rush to answer.  
  
While he didn’t immediately recognize the number, it was an area code he knew all too well. Did Winry get a new phone number without telling him?  
  
“Hello?”  
  
_“Edward Elric?”_  
  
The voice was deep. And somehow familiar.  
  
“Yes?”  
  
_“This is Lou Armstrong. You may not remember me.”_  
  
As if he could ever forget being pulled over by a man who was as large as the universe.  
  
“I remember you. You’re… Roy’s friend.”  
  
_“Yes. I need to talk to you, if you have a moment.”_  
  
“About Roy?”  
  
_“No. About Izumi.”_  
  
“Izumi?” Ed sat up, intrigued. “What, did you arrest her or something? I wouldn’t be all that sur—”  
  
_“Edward.”_ There was a harsh sigh on the other end of the line. _“Izumi passed away earlier this evening.”_  
  
“… What?”  
  
He had wished for something to distract him from thinking about Roy and that wish was granted. In the worst possible way.  
  
Was this nightmare of a day ever going to end?  
  
*****  
  
Russ hadn’t planned on going inside the convenience store to pay for the gas, he was just going to swipe his card at the pump and be done with it. But, after inhaling a bucket of popcorn with extra butter and two boxes of Raisinets _on top_ of the dinner he ate beforehand, Fletcher started whining about wanting some damn Cheetos. And since Russ actually didn’t hate his little brother, try as he might, he agreed to get him some. As a token of politeness, Alfons offered him money, which Russ in turn, politely refused… knowing full well he would have bitched up a storm if the teen _hadn’t_ offered in the first place.  
  
Believe it or not, it all made sense in his head.  
  
And so, with the stupid fucking Cheetos for Fletcher and a pack of gum for himself, Russ exited the store in time to see--and _hear_ \--a muscle car pulling into a parking spot. And not just any muscle car, but a 1971 Plymouth Barracuda that was probably worth more than what the owner made in two or three years combined, assuming the average teacher’s salary these days. Russ was hardly a classic muscle car aficionado--he would have pissed all over Roy Mustang’s Mustang if ever given the chance--but it was hard not to have a bit of a boner for Ms. Hawkeye’s Hemi ‘Cuda.  
  
Because kids were jerks, she never brought it to school anymore, so it was nice to see it again… until Russ realized that she was probably driving it to score some sex and he was promptly grossed out.  
  
Figuring the nice thing to do was say hello, since he actually liked the Hawk when she wasn’t being a holy terror, Russ prepared to do just that… until he got a good look at the person sitting in the passenger seat.  
  
Speak of the fucking devil.  
  
“Get the fuck out,” he muttered, his eyes wide, Cheetos and gum forgotten.  
  
There was no possible way that Roy Mustang was sitting in his teacher’s car. No fucking way. But yet, there he was. There was no mistaking that asshole, who was, admittedly, only an asshole because he had what Russ wanted, but that was beside the point.  
  
He walked quickly back to his car before either of them spotted him, his mind and body a jumbled web of nervousness and excitement. The nervousness was inexplicable; it wasn’t like _he_ was the one doing anything wrong. The excitement was easier to peg: something was far from right with this situation, something he could spin to his own advantage once he figured out how to do it. There was no conceivable reason that Ed’s perfect fucking boyfriend would be out with their teacher this time of night. How the hell did they even know each other? And wasn’t Roy gay?  
  
What _the hell_ was going on?  
  
“Russ, why aren’t we leaving?” Fletcher asked.  
  
“Shut up,” Russ snapped, tossing the Cheetos into the backseat. “Just shut up for a second.” He craned his neck to peer into the store and made out a blond head by the coffee machine. Sure, coffee came in handy after a night of some sort of nefarious activity.  
  
He felt Alfons’ hand touch his shoulder and considered shrugging it off. But since he still kind of liked it, he let it go… for now.  
  
“Is everything okay?”  
  
“Yeah.” Russ turned to look at his enemy/friend and was annoyed all over again that he had to be so damn cute. Jerk. “You’re not in a hurry to get home, are you?”  
  
Alfons shrugged. “Doesn’t matter, I guess.”  
  
Russ nodded. “Good.”  
  
He spotted Ms. Hawkeye leaving the store with two large cups of coffee. She got into her car, presumably handed one to the asshole, then the car roared into life. Russell waited until they were on the road before following. He could afford to give them some distance; even if he lost sight of them, it wasn’t like he couldn’t hear that beast moving down the road.  
  
As he drove, he felt an odd sense of triumph over this unexpected discovery. And why shouldn’t he? Sure, he was… sometimes… a bit of a prick, but everyone thought Roy shit sunshine and it had cost Russ plenty. Ed, for starters, and more importantly his friendship with Al, which, while more or less back to normal, still took a pretty big blow because of that fucking man. So yeah, if he had a chance to see Roy bite it, he would. His pride insisted.  
  
So now what? He could call Ed, but these days, he had a feeling Ed would be hard pressed to believe him if he told him the sky was blue, let alone that Roy was stepping out with Ms. Hawkeye. That left the one person who still believed in him in spite of everything that he had ever done.  
  
And, he pondered while pulling out his phone, that he secretly sort of hoped that Al would lay Roy out had nothing to do with it. That was just an added bonus.  
  
“Al, I need you to meet me… I’m not sure where just yet… What?… Get your damn tongue out of her mouth and do it. It’s a fucking emergency.”  
  
*****  
  
“Some emergency.”  
  
Al waved at Fletcher and spared a glare for Alfons, both of whom had opted to stay in the car when Russ got out to greet Al.  
  
“So are the two of you…?” Al started. He looked at Russ, glanced at Alfons, and then looked at Russ again.  
  
Russ was appalled that Al would suggest something he was trying eagerly  _not_ to think about. “What? _No._ ”  
  
“Whatever you say,” Al said with a knowing smile. “Alright, so what’s going on? I don’t want to leave Ed alone much longer than I already have.”  
  
“Why, is he afraid of the dark?”  
  
“No, you ass. Roy broke up with him.”  
  
Russ lost his happy thoughts. All of them. Every single one. He had been dreaming of hearing those words for some time now, but instead of rejoicing, he had a bad feeling. A _very_  bad feeling. What a fucking fine time for his conscience to step into the game.  
  
If Al already had just cause to be pissed at Roy for doing the dumbest thing in his life (because why would anyone in their right mind want to break up with Ed?) and that just cause was compounded by whatever was going on here… Russ didn’t want to think about the outcome.  
  
So maybe he _had_ wanted to see Al lose it on Roy a little bit. It didn’t mean that he wanted Al to _kill_ him.  
  
“… What happened?”  
  
Al shrugged. “He flew in, came to the house, and broke it off. Then he just left. Ed said he was staying at some hotel—”  
  
The teen paused. Suddenly he became very aware of their location.  
  
“You should go home and check on him,” Russ suggested, a little too quickly.  
  
“Why am I meeting you in a _hotel_ parking lot?” Al asked, a little too quietly.  
  
Russ was at a loss for words. It didn’t matter. His face said it all.  
  
“He’s here.” It was not a question.  
  
“Al…” Russ was still struggling for words. His thoughts, on the other hand, came in an endless stream: _please don’t ask if he’s with someone please don’t ask if he’s with someone please GOD don’t ask if he’s with someone—_  
  
“Is he with someone?”  
  
Lying was not an option, especially when his expression was selling him out faster than he could think of a bullshit excuse. The matter was then rendered null altogether when Al took off across the parking lot without waiting for him to answer, making a beeline for the hotel entrance.  
  
Oh, this was not good. This was, in fact, the farthest thing from good ever. 


	36. Confrontation

It was the first time that Roy ever had a woman in his room--  _hotel_ room, in this case. It would have been a humorous milestone if not for the circumstances leading up to it.

As many times as he had ever advocated it for a student, Roy had never once felt an overwhelming need or desire to discuss his problems in a more professional and controlled setting, to talk things out with someone highly trained in the ways of the human mind. He preferred handling issues on his own, although in retrospect, shacking up with Jean and becoming a part-time alcoholic were probably not the best ways to deal with losing Maes and Elysia. Yet he felt surprisingly better after talking with Riza.  Oh, he still ached fiercely from missing Ed, but that he did not have to wallow alone in his suffering--or endure Jean’s special brand of commentary--had actually helped more than he expected. 

Of course he had omitted certain particulars about his relationship with Ed.  While stressing that the age difference was a big issue, Roy conveniently neglected to mention the vastness of said age difference. Not that he believed for one minute that he had pulled one over on Riza.  From what he could tell in their brief time together, the woman was amazingly whip smart.  What he _did_ believe, however, was that she was also keen enough not to question the numbers.  And so as he talked, she simply sat patiently on the edge of his hotel bed, sipping on her coffee and nodding where it counted, and after Roy finally finished his long and winding tale of angst and woe, she replied instantly with a resounding:

“You really fucked up, you know.”

Roy was mid-swallow when she uttered those words and he promptly choked. He spat a mouthful of coffee on the desk, where he was sitting. Easier to clean it up from there than from the carpet or, even worse, his pants. 

“What?” he eventually managed between coughs while using a tissue to wipe up his gaffe.  “Why do you think that I fucked up?”

Riza placed her cup on the nightstand.  She crossed her legs and gave Roy a calculating look. “If you had known all along that your first partner was going to die so soon, would you have stayed with him or would you have broken it off to avoid the grief of losing him?”

Roy opened his mouth and then closed it, and realization hit him like a splash of ice cold water jolting him awake.  The implication behind her question made all the sense in the world.  He knew that, deep down in the place he was trying so desperately to guard.

“From everything you’ve told me, it seems as if your guy really loves you,” Riza continued.  “Why would you throw that away because of what you _think_ is going to happen?  You say that you don’t want to get hurt but yet you’ve already hurt yourself _and_  him for what’s ultimately a pretty piss-poor reason, wouldn’t you say?”

Roy shut his eyes, though that did little to quell the weight and truth of the woman’s words.  He tried to reason with himself, thinking that he really was justified because of the things he _didn’t_ say to her--namely that Ed was seventeen and that Roy was, or had been, his principal--but damned if it didn’t feel nearly as convincing as it had hours earlier, when he made up his mind to break things off with Ed in the first place. 

“I’m just trying to do the right thing, Riza,” he said quietly.  “I just want him to be happy.”

“Sounds like he _was_ happy,” Riza shot back. 

Roy met her gaze and sighed.  “And here I thought that you would at least validate me a little bit.”

Riza laughed.  “Sorry, I’m not that kind of girl,” she said as she rose to her feet.  “Look, Roy.  I can see that your heart is in the right place.  But just be sure, okay?  Be _absolutely sure_ that this is what you want to do before it’s too late to change your mind.” Her expression softened, and she regarded Roy with a warmth that, unbeknownst to him, few knew she was capable of possessing.  “You have something that a lot of people spend their entire lives trying to find.  Don’t be so quick to throw it away.  As the saying goes, it’s better to have loved and lost and…  um... something about it coming back to you if you set it free.”

“I think that’s actually two different sayings.”

“Whatever.”

She walked over to the desk, leaned over his shoulder, and grabbed a pad of paper bearing the hotel’s logo. She then opened her purse and rummaged around until she found a pen, unaware of the way Roy’s eyes widened at the sight of her gun.

“Here you go.”  Riza jotted down her name and number.  “If you ever want to talk or anything.  I’m much cheaper than a therapist.”

Roy smiled as he pocketed the piece of paper.  “And way more honest.  Thank you.”

Riza shrugged.  “What can I say?  I’m a sucker for gay drama. Now be a dear and walk me to my car.”

*****

Although she was once again going home to enjoy the company of her trusted vibrator (which, to be honest, wasn’t always a bad thing when compared to some of the dates she’d had in the past), Riza could at least be happy that her night wasn’t a total bust.  And if asked by her friends, she would be telling the truth when she admitted to giving her phone number to a hot guy she met at the bar.  She wouldn’t go so far as to reveal that she spent time in his hotel room as well,  as that would beg the bigger question of what she had done while she was there, which was a whole lot of nothing, physically speaking.  But the phone number thing would be enough to shut them the fuck up. At least until next weekend.

She glanced at Roy as he stood in the opposite corner of the elevator, studying the floor with a slight frown and hopefully taking to heart everything that she had said.  It really was a shame he liked dick, but it was what it was.  Perhaps fate had brought them together for another reason altogether, one not tied to sex.

Still, when he lifted his head and gave her a tentative and gracious smile, she thought for sure that her panties had melted. 

The lobby was quiet as they made their way through it, and just as Riza was about to thank Roy for a lovely evening, she noticed the look of abject horror on his face, directed at…

“Alphonse?”

The teen, who had apparently been storming towards them, froze when he saw her.

“Ms. Hawkeye?” he said, sounding equally perplexed. 

And just like that, it all clicked into place.

Roy came into town to break up with his lover. His _younger_ lover. 

Alphonse was standing there, looking pissed--and now confused--as all hell.

Who did Alphonse care about enough to stalk a hotel lobby, waiting for an opportunity to confront Roy?

Why, the same person who hadn’t shied away from the fact that he had an out-of-town boyfriend, much to the disappointment of a large number of female students. And very likely a few male ones as well.

“Oh my God, it’s Edward,” she whispered as she rounded on Roy, her eyes large with disbelief.  “You were talking about Edward.  _Holy shit_.”

*****

Roy was actually rather impressed that he was still managing to stand upright, seeing as how his legs had turned to jelly.  He knew better than to question how much worse the situation could get.  Besides, being confronted by his seventeen-year-old boyfriend’s… _ex_ -boyfriend’s little brother in the presence of a person who, judging by Al’s reaction, could only be one of his teachers, or a teacher at his school at the very least, was bad enough.  He didn’t dare tempt fate by challenging it to outdo itself.

He didn’t even know where to begin.  Did he try to explain himself to Riza or did he try to defuse the ticking teenage time bomb?  (Although he looked plenty defused already.)

Luckily, Riza made the decision for him.

“Come here, Alphonse.”

Even though she was mildly inebriated, her tone was not one to be denied.  She was definitely a teacher, and probably a damn good one at that.

The young man cautiously approached the two of them, his eyes darting back and forth between them as if trying to sort out a great mystery.  Roy did not see that Riza was offering him her car keys until she jabbed him in the arm with them, and he closed his hand around them, although he had no idea why he was taking them.

“Now give me your room key,” she instructed.

“What?” Roy was at a total loss.  “Why?”              

“The two of you clearly need to have a conversation, but I think you would agree that taking this _boy_ back to your room is not the best way to go about it.”

While there was only one front desk attendant on duty at that hour, one who was already more interested in their conversation than need be, she was right.  It was still one person too many to see him escorting a high-schooler into his hotel room in the middle of the night.

“Give me your room key,” she said again.  “Take him out to my car and talk to him there.  Try not to make any more of a scene than we already have.” Riza shook her head. “As for me, I’m going back to your room and raiding the mini-bar because after all of  _this_ , I need another fucking drink.”

*****

Russ leaned against the hood of his car, biting on his bottom lip as he stared at the hotel entrance.  He supposed that it was a good sign that he had yet to hear any screaming or yelling or police sirens or other general chaos.  But that did little to ease the fear he felt upon seeing Al take off like a bat out of hell.  After all, he knew firsthand what the guy was capable of in the heat of the moment. 

“Russ!” Fletcher called out from the backseat of the car.  “Are we gonna sit here all night?”

“Shut up and eat your fucking Cheetos,” Russ barked at his little brother without a stitch of remorse.  Well, maybe just a little.  But whatever.  As far as he was concerned, this was all Fletcher’s fault anyway because of those stupid, yet admittedly delicious Cheetos he just had to have at the worst possible time. 

“Do you want to go inside?”

He glanced briefly at Alfons, who was standing beside him, so close that their shoulders were touching.  It was nice.  Goddamn it. 

“Not yet.  Maybe in a few...”

Russ fell silent upon seeing Roy and Al step out of the hotel.  He watched intently as they walked over to Ms. Hawkeye’s car, got in, and… that was it. 

What the hell were they doing?

*****

Roy wasn’t sure if he trusted himself yet to release the steering wheel for fear of strangling Al.  Now that the initial shock of this whole clusterfuck of a situation was beginning to settle in, he was growing more and more livid with the kid with each passing second, as much as he generally adored him. 

“Here we are, Al,” he said, miraculously managing to keep his voice calm.  Well, calm enough.  “Go ahead and say what you have to say.  Or hit me.  Or do whatever it is you came here to do.”

He spun in his seat to look at the teen… and his anger was immediately brought down a notch when he saw Al’s face, which was a wreck of sadness and confusion.

“No.” Roy shook his head vigorously.  “Your behavior outed me to _one of your teachers_ of all people, so don’t you _dare_ look at me like that.”

“I didn’t know that you were with her.”

“How did you even know that I was here at all?”

Reluctantly, Al pointed over his shoulder.  Roy peered out of the rear window, whereupon he saw an audience of two looking in their direction. 

“Russ,” he said.

“Yeah,” Al confirmed.

“Why am I not surprised?” Roy let his head fall against the headrest, and he pried his hands from the steering wheel long enough to run them over his face.  “I was upset.  I needed a drink.  I met Riza.  We talked.  Did you _honestly_ think that I was in there screwing around with someone else?” 

“I wasn’t thinking at all!” Al admitted.  “I just… reacted.”

“You mean _over_ reacted?” Roy offered.

“Maybe… Yeah.”

“You really need to work on that,” the older man said.  “Al, I know you love your brother, but you can’t keep flying off the handle like this.  One of these days, you’re going to meet someone who sees your fists and raises you a gun.  Either that or you’re not going to know someone who knows a cop who can manage to bend a few rules to keep you out of jail for beating up some dumbass punk.”

Al flushed at Roy’s knowing glare and turned to look out of the passenger window.  A full minute passed before he spoke.

“I just want to protect him.”

“Well you’re going about it the wrong way.”

“So are you.”

Roy winced at that.  He did not deny it, but damned if he was about to be lectured by someone half his age. 

“Go home, Al,” he muttered tiredly.  “Go home and take care of Ed and let me worry about my own choices, okay?  Drive carefully.”

He closed his eyes and did not open them again until he heard the car door open and close. 

A little while later, he returned to his room in the hopes of convincing his new friend that he really wasn’t some depraved and dirty old man.  Riza claimed not to think so… however by the time she was done with the mini-bar, she also swore that she saw an outline of Jesus in the carpet, so anything was possible. 

*****

For the fourth time that night, Ed woke up.

And for the fourth time that night, he remembered the break up all over again.

At this rate, it was far less painful to never sleep again.

He reached out in the darkness and touched Al’s arm, and he mustered a faint smile in spite of his despair.  Ed supposed that there were worse things in life than clingy little brothers, and he hadn’t had the heart to make Al sleep in his own room since he would be leaving in about six hours to help plan a funeral for Izumi.  It was the last thing he wanted to do, having to go back there and deal with this. But since Sig would not be showing his face--not if he knew what was good for him--it was the least that Ed could do. 

Both of his fathers were gone. Both of his mothers were dead.  Al was the only real family he had left. 

Al was the only real _anything_ he had left. 

So if the kid wanted to cling to him, then that was just fine by Ed.

He closed his eyes and eventually dozed off for the fifth time that night.  His waking thoughts would sting once again, but until then, he would sleep. 

And not remember. 

*****

After trying most unsuccessfully to grill Al for details of his confrontation with Roy and the Hawk and watching him drive away, quiet and forlorn, Russ took Alfons back to his house where they stayed awake for remainder of the night, talking and playing video games and poking entirely too much fun at poor Fletcher, who had fallen asleep on the couch.  Now, with the morning sun peeking over the horizon, he walked the young man to his car and thanked him for his company, sullenly but sincerely. 

“No problem,” Alfons said, showing genuine surprise at the sentiment, reluctant as it was. 

The teens were standing dangerously close to one another, and Russ knew that he should go back inside _right now_ , but… well… Alfons was still standing there and it was only good manners to wait until he left, right?   Because… because…

“I still like Ed,” he proclaimed suddenly.

“So do I,” Alfons agreed.

Which naturally led to them kissing.  Somehow. Russ would later blame it on lack of sleep.

When they parted, he stared into the wide blue eyes of his rival.  And he smiled.

He _really_ smiled.

“Good.  Just so we’re clear.”

*****

The bus was almost empty, which suited Ed just fine. While they would undoubtedly accumulate more riders as the day progressed, the present silence was much appreciated.  He stared out of the window at the scenery, which looked far more familiar now than it did when he first arrived, and he marveled at how it felt like years had passed since he boarded a similar bus heading in the other direction, back when he was nothing more than a scared runaway with an address hidden away in his wallet and absolutely no expectations.

Roy was probably back home by now.  Ed wondered what he might be doing, and then wondered if he was thinking of him while he was doing whatever he might be doing, and then hated himself for wondering anything of the sort. There would be enough unpleasantness to come over the next few days and Ed did not need to add to his troubles by fixating on Roy and whether or not he would pay him a visit while he was there, even though he knew that he really shouldn’t… but probably would. 

No. Not probably. 

_Definitely._

Because while Ed had come into his own with the help of his family, his _true_ life’s story had begun with Roy.

And now, one way or another, that story's conclusion would finally be decided.


	37. After the Rain

Saturday afternoon was dark and gloomy and rainy and just plain miserable. Roy watched as large drops beat mercilessly against the window of the restaurant as if seeking entrance into the establishment, while lightning flashed and thunder roared angrily overhead. It did not seem as if the sun would ever shine again in the face of such a downpour.  Fitting weather, though, all things considered. 

Izumi Curtis’ funeral was earlier that morning, a fast and pitifully small affair, one that Roy had not attended on account of his friend’s request. The last thing that anyone needed, especially Lou, was for the somber celebration of a life, such as it was, to turn into an awkward and public soap opera of sorts between former lovers. Izumi had not been the kindest person for the bulk of her existence, and she had spent years savagely abusing one of the two people whom Roy held most dear in all the world, but that did not imply that she did not deserve the undivided attention of those who chose to mourn her. Roy understood that, and so he stayed home without complaint until he was invited to meet for coffee.

“You never heard _anything_ from her husband?” he asked Lou, who sat across from him sipping on a cup of black coffee. The large man looked a little paler than usual and his eyes were devoid of the sparkle that Roy knew so well, but all in all, he was still holding up well for someone who had just buried the woman he loved only hours before. 

Lou set down his cup and shook his head.  “I imagine he’ll sneak back into town at some point to deal with the house now that it’s all over,” he said.  “She didn’t have anything else of value so I’m sure he’ll try to get what he can out of all of this.”

“Unbelievable,” Roy muttered.

“Yes it is.  And if he likes breathing, he better pray that our paths don’t cross.” Lou calmly stirred another packet of sugar into his coffee, like he wasn't plotting the wide variety of ways in which to murder his beloved’s husband. “So,” he began, changing the subject.  “Are you not even going to ask?”

“Ask about what?”

A knowing silence fell between them as a horrendous Muzak version of “I Will Survive” played in the background. Maes had once speculated that Muzak played non-stop in hell.  For Roy, it was a terrifying thought. 

He polished off his coffee just in time for a refill from the pleasant server with a mild drawl from somewhere that he could not quite place.  After she left, he gave up the fight and sighed in defeat. 

“How is he?” he asked.

Lou sipped his drink and reached for yet another sugar packet.  “He’s sad,” he said as he carefully tore it open.  “But I don’t believe that it has anything to do with Izumi.”

“Oh.”  Roy looked out of the window again.  If he was a selfish man, he supposed that he would have felt some sort of twisted sense of pleasure, knowing that Ed was still missing him, but instead the knowledge only made him feel even worse than he already felt. 

He had tried calling the teen a few days ago, wanting to offer his condolences as well as… whatever else might have occurred during the course of a conversation.  But the call was immediately redirected to Ed’s voice mail.  And Ed never called him back.

Of course the reason for the lack of response was likely as simple as funeral planning.  As Izumi’s only somewhat legal relative next to the missing Sig, Ed had come into town to help assist Lou and he was probably tied up making all kinds of decisions regarding the final arrangements of his foster mother.  Roy would have only been a distraction during a time when he needed to be focused elsewhere.  But now that the funeral was over, why hadn’t he called?

“Is that all you have to say?” Lou tapped a meaty digit against the table. 

Roy turned back to face him.  “What else am I _supposed_ to say?”

The muscular officer reached into his pocket and retrieved his wallet, his expression thoughtful and serene.  “I fell in love with a woman I knew was dying.  I watched her waste away little by little, wondering if every day would be the last, until she finally passed away in my arms.  And if I had the chance to go back and do it differently, I wouldn’t change a thing.”

“Lou--”

“Let me finish.” His voice was polite but authoritative. He pulled out a wad of bills and arranged them neatly under the saucer in front of him as he spoke.  “I was very concerned about you when Maes died. I thought for sure that I would be patrolling one day and get the call that you had killed yourself.  And that… that… _situation_ that you jumped right into with your teacher guy…  If that wasn’t a cry for help…”

Roy winced visibly. The man was right.  His relationship with Jean had been quite the bad idea, even though it probably saved his life in a twisted sort of way.

“But then this kid comes along and for the first time in a long time, you’re happy.  Worried, for a few good and legal reasons.  But _happy_. It must be nice to have the luxury of throwing that away.” Lou stood up from the table and pocketed his wallet.  “I have to get going,” he said.  “Edward’s stopping by so we can wrap up a few things _before he leaves tomorrow_.”

Roy glanced at the big man, taking the hint. 

“I’ll talk to you soon,” Lou said, smacking him on the shoulder before walking away.

After a few moments, Roy watched him run through the rain with a speed that belied his massive size.  He got into his car--which sank considerably when he did--and left. 

Roy propped his elbows on the table and hid his face in his hand as a frighteningly chipper version of “Ice Ice Baby” filled the restaurant. 

Maybe this was hell after all.

*****

Alfons found him outside, sitting cross-legged on the driveway and drawing odd looking circles on the concrete with a stick of white chalk.  There was something sweet but lonely in the way he sat there by himself.  Alfons knew that Ed was on the teen’s mind.  Even though they had talked every single day since Ed left, he supposed that it was still only natural to worry where family was concerned, particularly with everything that Ed was going through.

“Al?”

Al briefly looked at Alfons before resuming his work.  “What are they doing in there?” he asked.

“Playing Madden.”  Alfons sat down beside him and offered him one of the two sodas in his hand.  “Martel’s… not that good.”

He stopped, worried that he had offended. 

But then Al smiled and nodded, and the teen breathed a sigh of relief. 

“Yeah, she sucks,” he agreed, cracking open his can.  “But don’t ever say that to her face.”

“I’m not that stupid.”

The boys grinned and took a drink.  Al let out a rather impressive belch and Alfons complimented him accordingly. 

A few minutes passed before Alfons spoke again.

“Hey, Al?”

“Yeah?”

“Are we cool with each other?”

Al added a triangle to the center of the two circles he was currently working on before replying.  

“You wouldn’t be here if we weren’t.”  He drew a smaller triangle on each side of the large one and tilted his head, admiring his creation.  “Besides it’s not like you held a gun to his head to make him kiss you.” 

Alfons ran his finger along the ground, just because.  “I still feel bad about what happened.”

“Good.  That means you’re not a jerk,” Al said, burping again.  “Stupid fucking Diet Coke.”

“What are you drawing?”

“Transmutation circles.  My Dad taught it to me,” Al explained.  He pointed at the one he just finished.  “This one is mine.”

“Yours?”

“Yeah.  I came up with it.”

Alfons peered at the design.  “I suppose I’d have to be a rocket scientist to figure it out, huh?”

Al chuckled and started drawing a new one. “Pretty much.”

The faint sound of yelling and laughter floated out from the house.  Alfons smiled at the merry noise and took a long swig of his drink, then almost choked when Al asked:

“So what’s going on with you and Russ?”

“What?”  He blushed and sputtered and coughed.  “N-Nothing!”

“You’re a horrible liar,” Al said.  “Besides, it’s pretty obvious that _something_ is going on, the way that you two have been acting around each other lately.  Did you have sex?”

“No!”

“Blow job?”

_“No!”_

“Make out?”

“Uh…”

“Ha.  I _knew_ it.” 

“Ugh.”  Alfons lowered his head in humiliation. “It’s… It’s…  I don’t know what it is.”

“Do you like him?”

“… Yeah.”

“Cool.”  Al gave him a reassuring nudge on the arm.  “Look, I know he’s not easy to put up with but deep down, he’s an okay guy.”

“ _Way_ deep down.”

Al smiled.  “Yeah. I always figured that if he met the right person, maybe he wouldn’t be so damn douchebaggy.”

“Well, it’s only been a week so I don’t know.”

“That’s practically long term for him.” 

“Really?”

“Really,” Al said.  He stared at Alfons for a very long time.  “Hey.  Do you know that you look just like--”

“What the hell are you two doing out there?”

Al and Alfons looked towards the house where Martel was standing in the doorway. 

“Male bonding,” Al replied.  “Oh and by the way, you owe me twenty bucks.  They’re _totally_ a couple!”

*****

“Thank you again, Edward, for all of your help.”

Ed felt positively miniscule walking through the house next to the big man.  He knew that he was not exactly average when it came to height, but it just did not seem right for a human being to be as humongous as Lou Armstrong.

“You did most of the work,” he said.  “And you paid for everything.  I should be thanking you since I know that fat fuck Sig never will.”  He paused.  “Sorry for swearing.”

Lou merely grinned and slapped Ed on the back, almost knocking him over in the process.

“No need to apologize for accuracy.” 

They reached the front door and stopped. 

“There is one last thing,” Lou said, reaching into his pocket.  He pulled out an envelope with Ed’s name printed on the front and offered it to him.  “She wanted me to give this to you after all of the _funeral bullshit_ , as she called it, was done.” He shook his head and smiled.  “She didn’t mince words, did she?”

“No, she didn’t.”  Ed took the envelope and stared at his name. 

“She asked that you read it whenever you were ready.” 

When he spoke again, he did it slowly, choosing his words with great care.

“Edward… I’ve seen a lot of abuse in my line of work and I can’t even begin to imagine the suffering that you must have endured.  I would never dream of trying to justify anything that she did to you.  I don’t know if it makes a difference, and I don’t blame you if it doesn’t, but all I can tell you is that the woman who wrote that letter was not the same woman you remember.”   Lou stopped for a moment, his hand fiddling with the doorknob.  “When… or _if_ the day ever comes that you do read her letter, all I ask is that you please try to do it with an open mind.”

Ed thought it was a tall order considering that the person who wrote it was someone who had ruined a great deal of his life.  He could make no promises whatsoever; no matter how much she had changed in the end, too many things had happened, things that would take Ed a very long time to deal with.  In the end, all he could do was try… to try.  But first he had to work himself up to even wanting to do that much. 

Maybe he would be able to one day.  Or maybe not.  It was entirely too soon to tell. 

“Thank you.”  Ed carefully folded the envelope and slid it into his pocket.  He extended his left hand and it disappeared into a grasp so powerful that Ed momentarily feared for the safety of his one remaining flesh and bone arm. 

“Good luck, Edward.”

Something in the man’s voice told Ed that he was not just wishing him good luck in the general sense.

“Thanks.”

Ed exited the house and approached Winry’s car.  He got in, shut the door, and let his head fall back against the headrest.

“Are you okay?” Winry asked.

The teen closed his eyes.  “Yeah.” 

It was a lie, of course.  Okay would have been a drastic improvement over the way he felt right now. 

“Are you hungry?” she inquired.

“Starving.”

Winry started the car.

“But there’s one more place I need you to take me,” Ed added.

The young woman stared at him in disbelief.  “Are you serious?”

“I have to, Winry.”

“You don’t have to do anything,” she grumbled.  “And I suppose you’ll just walk over there if I refuse?”

“Nope.  I’ll call for a cab.”  Ed turned to face his friend.  “Come on.  Please?”

Winry sighed, knowing damn well that she could never deny that face.  “I hate this,” she said as she put the car into gear.

“Thank you, Winry.”

“Shut up.”

Ed smiled weakly and looked out of the window as she pulled away from Lou’s house.  While it did not seem possible earlier, the rain had finally stopped. 

For the past few days, Ed had wanted nothing more than to return Roy’s phone call, to hear his voice in person instead of curling up on Winry’s couch every night with his eyes squeezed shut and his heart aching, playing his message over and over until every cautious word, every pause, every intake of breath was committed to memory.  And now that Izumi was properly laid to rest, he could see him without distraction or interruption.    

Perhaps for the last time. 

He knew that he could have just called him back.  It would have been much easier to talk to him without having to look at him.  But it also would have been easier for the conversation to end without resolution (or the resolution he was _hoping_ for).  Facing Roy was the only way to be sure.  If they were truly over, then Roy was going to have to look him in the eyes and tell him.  That was the only way that he would accept it.

With each passing mile, the apprehension that Ed had barely managed to keep at arm’s length since his return began to swell within him until it threatened to send him into a full-fledged panic.  This was it.  This was really, _finally_ it. 

One way or another, the fate of their relationship was going to be decided tonight. 

*****

“Oh my God, Russ.  For the hundredth time, I didn’t tell him anything.  He _guessed_.”

Russ glared across the seat at Alfons, unconvinced.  “And just how did he guess?” he asked.

“Maybe because you haven’t been acting like such a fucking jerk lately,” Alfons mumbled.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

Russ stared out of the window at the evening sky, his face fixed in a scowl.  After having spent the past few hours being gawked at by Al and Martel, he felt wholly justified in his agitation.  It was bad enough that this thing with Alfons, whatever it was, was even happening in the first place.  And that he was actually… kind of… sort of… happy about it was even worse.  They had spent the past week hanging out and getting to know each other and _not_ talking about Ed and it was, horror of all horrors, nice. 

But the not so subtle oohing and ahhing of his friends was too much. 

“They’re never going to let us live this down,” he said.  “Martel especially.”

“It won’t be that bad,” Alfons tried to reason.

“She asked us when we were getting married!”

Alfons lowered his head to hide his amusement and Russ hated him for it.  Well, he tried to.  And failed.  Miserably. 

“Get out of my car,” he muttered.

“I can’t until you let go of my hand.”

Russ looked down at their intertwined fingers.  When the hell did _that_ happen? 

He let go of him, somewhat reluctantly.  They kissed each other goodbye, which was annoyingly pleasant, and Russ backed out of the driveway and headed home, where he would make it a point to torment Fletcher just because he could, even if he didn’t mean it.

Halfway there, he realized that he was smiling again.  He had been doing a lot of that over the past seven days. 

Happiness.  How utterly gross.

*****

Even though they were only barely visible in the waning light of day, Hohenheim smiled proudly at the vast assortment of transmutation circles drawn on the driveway.  Al had been a shockingly quick study in the ways of alchemy and he wondered if Ed would be as well.  Well, that was if Ed even wanted to learn about such things from him.  He did not want to assume.  Although that did not prevent him from hoping.

While he originally had every single intention of coming home for his firstborn’s birthday, an event that he would not have missed for the world, Hohenheim had returned early upon hearing of the death of Ed’s foster mother.  To lose two mothers in such a short span of time was a horrible thing, and while his presence probably would not provide much comfort considering the way things were between them, he wanted to be there for Ed, as much as the teen would allow. 

He walked past his car--which was blessedly dent-free--and into the house, ignoring as best he could the initial pang of sadness, knowing that his wife would not be there to greet him.  But that was quickly replaced by shock as he entered the living room and found his youngest son sprawled out on top of his girlfriend, frantically groping away at her like it was his job to do so.

“Oh my God, Al.” Martel squirmed beneath the horny teen.  “Get off.”

“I’m trying to,” Al moaned into her neck.

_“I’m serious, Al.”_

Al stopped and followed her wide-eyed gaze to the doorway.  When he saw Hohenheim standing there, he sat up with a quickness, almost falling off the couch while doing so, as if that would somehow negate scarring his father for life.

“H-Hi Dad.” 

The blushing and breathless teen started to stand up and then changed his mind, which, considering his present state, was quite possibly the best thing for both of them. 

“Uh… welcome home.”

*****

Two hours. 

Roy had been sitting there for two hours, holding the phone in his hands and waiting.  Wondering.  Worrying.  It was embarrassingly juvenile yet he could not help it.  Should he go ahead and call Ed again?  Should he hold off to see if he called back?  What on earth should he do? 

This was madness.  He had made career and life decisions with less trepidation, for goodness sake.

The doorbell sounded, providing him a welcome diversion from fretting.  He set the phone aside and stood up, mentally preparing himself for whatever drama Jean had gotten himself into now.  There had been quite a bit of it over the past week seeing as how the man had developed a renewed interest in taking up residency in Kain Fuery’s pants. Roy walked over to the door and answered it…

*****

… and Ed thought that he would melt just from the sight of him.  Or cry.  Both seemed equally possible. 

“… Hi, Roy.”

“Hello.”

They stared at each other for what felt like forever, trying to read one another and neither having a clue what the other was thinking.  Eventually, Ed broke the stalemate and stared at the ground, not because he wanted to, but because he really _would_ have cried if he hadn’t.  There was nothing worse, nothing _crueler_ than having to stand in front of the man he loved without being able to touch him for fear of rejection. 

“I’m sorry I didn’t call you back,” he said, his voice far calmer than he felt.  “With the funeral and everything…”

“I understand.” 

Ed thought he sounded… well, relieved… or something like it.  But surely that was just his imagination.  He very highly doubted that Roy had been sitting anxiously by the phone, waiting for him to call.

“Do you want to come in?”  Roy peered over his shoulder where Winry sat parked in the driveway.  “Or do you have to go?”

“No, it’s okay,” Ed insisted, although he knew that the young woman waiting for him probably thought otherwise.  Maybe he should have taken a cab after all.

Ed stepped past him into the house and he clenched his teeth as fresh pain washed over him.  Everything held some sort of memory for him there.  This had been his home too, for a little while, and it hurt like hell being there as nothing more than an uninvited guest. 

Roy closed the door and stood there, and the smell of him was almost enough to drive Ed this side of mad.  How many times had he buried his face in the man’s chest or neck or hair for the sole purpose of drowning himself in that scent? 

“Um…”  Ed took a step back, memorizing the carpet, his composure--what little of it there was to begin with--already slipping fast.  “I… uh… I just… wanted…”

He shook his head, frustrated.  Less than a minute in and he was already failing spectacularly at the delivery.  This was definitely not going as planned.  Not that he had an actual plan going into this.  But he knew what he wanted to say, all the words were _right there_ , clamoring to get out. 

No.  There was no time for screwing things up.  Not when he would never get a chance like this again. 

Ed sighed shakily, his eyes stinging and wet.  He lifted his head, forced himself to look Roy in the eyes, and tried again.  “I’m not here to try and talk you out of your decision… even though I really want to.  I just… I just wanted to… _fuck_.”

Roy’s perplexed expression clued him in to the unfortunate order of his choice of words, which would have been humorous any other time but now.

“No. I meant…”

He ran his fingers through his hair and sighed again, letting his arm flop heavily down to his side.  He wanted to move to the couch, but the thought of sitting there, where he and Roy had laughed and cuddled and loved… he couldn’t.  And so instead, he leaned against the door and closed his eyes, and only then, in the safety of the dark, was he finally able to start making sense.

“I wanted to say that it goes both ways, Roy,” he began, quietly.  “This idea you had, that I was going to wake up one day and decide that being with you was a mistake.”  Ed opened his eyes and found it surprisingly easy to continue without rambling now that the ball was rolling.  “I mean, look at me.  I’m seventeen… deformed… and I don’t know anything about adult stuff like… I don’t know… taxes and mortgages and shit.  There are tons of other guys out there that you have more in common with, older guys with cars and careers and bank accounts.  But the difference between us is that it didn’t matter to me.  I never once thought you would leave me because of any of that.”

A tear escaped, but was wiped away by a trembling hand before it got too far.

“I wish that you could have had the same faith in me.”  His breath hitched, and he knew it was not going to be long before he broke down completely.  “Just because I’m young doesn’t mean that I want to party or screw a lot of guys or anything like that.  And maybe I don’t have a clue about what I want to do with my life yet… but I know that I want you in it. I _need_ you in it.”

Another tear fell, and then another, and he turned away and mumbled a curse-filled apology, appalled by his own behavior.  This was the last thing that he had wanted to do, to let Roy see him like this.  Even so, that did not stop him from imagining Roy’s arms wrapping around him and pulling him into a firm backwards embrace. 

… Except that he was not imagining it.  It was very real.

“Please don’t cry,” Roy whispered, holding him tightly. 

Ed froze, stunned.  It felt so incredibly wonderful being in Roy’s arms again, like years had passed instead of weeks, and he could feel optimism trying to break through the armor of his despair.  But he needed to know, he needed to be sure…

“Don’t,” he said, trying hard to resist the urge to lean back against him.  “Don’t touch me if you don’t mean it.”

“When you told me that you kissed someone else, I was angry.  And hurt.”  Roy turned him around.  “And _scared_. I was so scared that I thought I would rather end things now than face the possibility that you might not want to be with me anymore.  I told you that I didn’t want to put what I wanted ahead of everything else but that’s exactly what I did by trying to prevent something that may have never happened.” 

He cupped the teen’s face in the palms of his hands and used his thumbs to wipe Ed’s cheeks dry. 

“You're right.  I didn’t have faith in you.  I’m sorry.”

Ed opened his mouth to speak and then realized that there was nothing he could even think to say that would properly articulate every single emotion that he was feeling.  So instead, he nudged his way past Roy’s hands and grabbed him in a fierce embrace, burying his face in the man’s chest as he had done countless times before, smelling that lovely smell, his heart overcome with relief and joy. 

“You forgive me then?” Roy asked as he hugged him back.

Ed did not believe that a sillier question had ever been spoken.  He nodded emphatically against Roy’s chest.  “Do you forgive me?”

“Yes… although you may want to reconsider your relationship with Goldschläger.”

Ed cringed into Roy’s shirt.  Just hearing the name was enough to make his stomach turn.  Never again.

Roy grinned and pulled back.  He swept Ed’s hair away from his brow and bent forward to kiss him…

… when the sound of a scream just outside of the door interrupted them.

Horror dawned on Ed’s face. 

“Oh, shit.  Winry’s out there!”

*****

Winry was indeed out there, now standing by her car and wielding a wrench.

The same wrench that just met the acquaintance of Jean Havoc’s head.

“Owwwwwww.”  Jean rubbed his throbbing head.  Miraculously, the potential concussion did not interfere with his smoking. 

“What’s going on?” Roy asked as he came out of the house with Ed right behind him.

“Are you alright?” Ed asked Winry.

“ _She’s_ hunky fucking dory,” Jean growled.  “ _I’m_ the one who was assaulted.  And what the hell kind of woman carries a wrench in her purse anyway?”

“You snuck up on me,” Winry growled back.  “What the hell kind of man goes creeping up on people in the dark?”

“I pulled in right behind you!  How is that creeping?”

“You _look_ like a creeper.”

Jean was genuinely offended.  “I do not!”

“Okay, okay.”  Roy decided that it was time to intervene before everyone on the street came outside to see what sort of Jerry Springer-esque shenanigans were taking place.  “Jean, do you need medical attention?”

“No, but a beer would be great.”  The man walked up to Roy and Ed and paused.  He stared at them for a good, long moment, as if trying to deduce some complicated thing. “Don’t fuck it up this time,” he finally said to them before letting himself into the house. 

“Did he just… give us his blessing?” Ed asked.

Roy nodded slowly.  “I think he did.”

“Huh.”  Ed walked over to Winry, which Roy thought was rather brave, considering her mood.  “Are you alright?” he asked again.

The irritated young lady folded her arms.  “Besides being hungry enough to eat my car, yeah, I’m alright.”

“You can help yourself to whatever is in the fridge,” Roy offered.  “He has you blocked in anyway, so you might as well stay for a while.”

Winry narrowed her eyes in suspicion but eventually relented at the insistence of her empty stomach.  She tossed her wrench in the car and entered the house, leaving Roy and Ed to stare at the closed door and ponder what in the hell just happened.

“I… uh…”  Ed gave up.  He had no words.

“Yeah,” Roy agreed.

“I suppose we should go in and make sure that they don’t kill each other.”

“Probably.”

And then they were kissing, a desperate entanglement of tongues and limbs, right there out in the open against Winry’s car, with no thought or care for who might have seen them.  It was not exactly the way that Roy had envisioned their reunion, but nevertheless, it was perfect.

Absolutely perfect.

*****

“Will you look at them?”  Winry stared at the couple standing in the driveway, her face scrunched in disgust.  “Honestly, causing a scene like that.”

“Some people have no shame,” Jean said before chugging his beer.  He looked appreciatively at the curvaceous figure of the young woman who had maimed him only moments earlier.  “So...”

“You’re old enough to be my dad.”

“I’ll be in the kitchen.”

*****

After an impromptu dinner of sandwiches and potato chips and beer (an soda for Ed and Winry), and a horrifyingly explicit rundown by Jean on all the things that Kain Fuery was able to do with his tongue--which prompted Roy to ask Winry for her wrench--the lovers were finally left alone.  They curled up on the couch, talking and kissing until well past midnight, when Roy dragged the yawning teen upstairs and they fell onto the bed, wrapped around each other. 

“What time does your bus leave tomorrow?” Roy asked.

“Nine… something.”  Ed yawned again.  “I have to grab my stuff from Winry’s place before I go.”

The faint glow of the nightstand clock was just enough for them to see each other.  Ed scooted closer to Roy, his arms locked around the older man’s neck and his fingers trailing lazily against his skin.  “You are coming out for my birthday, right?”

“Definitely.”

“It can’t be cheap, traveling back and forth like that.”

Roy shrugged and kissed him on the forehead.  “It’s worth it.”

“You should just move out there and save yourself the trouble,” Ed suggested with a chuckle.

“Okay.”

Trailing fingers halted.  “I-I was just kidding,” Ed said.

“I wasn’t,” Roy replied.  “Unless you don’t want me to.”

“Of course I want you to.”  Ed let go of him and sat up.  “But… what about your job?  Your house?”

“There are other jobs.  There are other houses.”  Roy propped himself up on one elbow before continuing.  “I’m not saying that I’m going to do it tomorrow, but I think that it’s something I should start working towards.”

“You won’t know anybody.”

“That’s not true.  I’ll know you and Al.” Roy smirked.  “And my new gun-toting teacher friend, Riza.”

Golden eyes widened in the darkness.  “You know Ms. Hawkeye?  How the hell did that happen?”

“It’s a long story.  I’ll explain it later.” 

“Does it involve Al?”

“What do you think?”  Roy pulled Ed back down beside him. “I want you to come to Japan with me this summer,” he added.  “I want you to meet Elysia.”

Warm fingers ghosted over Roy’s face, lingering at the upward curve of his lips. 

“I guess I’ll have to learn some Japanese then,” Ed said.

“Hai.”

“Hi?”

Roy burst out laughing.  It felt good to do that again. 

“What am I going to do with you?” he asked when he was finally able to stop. 

“… I have a few ideas.”

“Really?”  Roy moaned as a hand slipped under his shirt.  “I thought you were tired.”

“Not anymore.”

“ _And_ I thought that we were waiting until you turned eighteen.”

Ed flipped the older man onto his back and climbed on top of him.  “We are.”

“So what are you doing?” Roy asked in a voice that was not entirely steady.

Ed gazed down at him and smiled. 

“Improvising.”

*****

Much later, after doing everything that two people could do outside of the textbook definition of sex, they finally called it a night and fell asleep in each other’s arms.

The road ahead of them would be a long and winding one, part of it smooth and faultless, part of it filled with bumps and obstacles.  Some people would support them, a couple going so far as to defend their honor with wrenches and guns.  Others would judge them harshly, doing their damnedest to pick away at their bliss.  But they would face it all, both the good and the bad, together.

As long as they had each other, they were going to be just fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more to go!


	38. Closure

Roy generally believed the adage that time passed by faster the older one got.  Even so, it felt as if it had taken somewhere in the approximate range of _forever_ for nearly one month to pass since the night that he and Ed reunited.  To make matters worse, Ed’s eighteenth birthday fell on a Wednesday, which meant that he had to wait two extra days before making the trip out to see him.

Twenty-nine days total.  And entirely too long.

But the torture of waiting was instantly undone the second that Ed opened the door to greet him.  The sight of him was enough to make Roy ache in a number of ways, and without so much as a hello, he swept him into his arms and kissed him deeply, desperately.

“Happy birthday,” he said after they finally parted.  “Again.”  Roy had wished him a happy birthday on Wednesday, but it only felt right to say it now as well.

“Thanks.”  The young man smiled warmly at him.  “Are you ready?”

Honestly, Roy would have much rather absconded with Ed and returned to his hotel room, so anxious was he to do things that were not entirely appropriate in the presence of family and friends.  But there would be time for that later.  The rest of the weekend, as a matter of fact.

“Ready,” he replied with a nod.

Ed held out his hand.  Roy took it.  Then they walked inside together.

“Roy!”

Al’s face lit up like the sun as they entered the living room.  He jumped off the couch and bolted over to them, and then shoved his own brother out of the way to get close to the older man.

Roy assumed that the teen’s heretofore displays of affection would be kept to a minimum since other people were around, but he was pleasantly surprised when Al hugged him regardless.  Granted, it was more of a “manly” hug, but Al’s sweetness was still evident beneath the bravado.

“You made it,” he said.

“I made it.” Roy stared at him for a minute, until he finally figured out what was so different about him.  “You cut your hair.”

“Yeah.”  Al ran a hand over it.  “There’s enough hippie hair in this family so I decided to keep mine short.”

“ _Anyway_ ,” Ed started, nudging his way back to Roy’s side.  “You already met Martel.  And Russ and his little brother Fletcher.” He hesitated before motioning to the young blond man sitting next to Russ.  “… This is Alfons.”

So he was the one.  Roy’s eyes lingered on him for a moment before he spoke up.

“Hello, everyone.”

After an exchange of greetings, some awkward (Alfons), some tense (Russ), and some genuinely heartfelt (Martel and Fletcher), Ed dragged Roy off to the kitchen, where Hohenheim was toiling away over the stove.

“Your mother made this look far more simpler than it really is,” he said as he sprinkled pepper into one pot and stirred another.  When he was finished, he set down the shaker and the spoon, wiped off his hands, and turned around.  “You must be Roy.”

“This is Hohenheim.”  Ed paused.  “... My father.”

Roy could not help but stare as he shook the other man’s hand.  He had known to expect a resemblance but he was still shocked by just how much Ed looked like him.

“It’s very nice to meet you,” he said.

“Likewise.”  Hohenheim looked at his son.  “Edward, why don’t you go tell everyone that dinner will be ready shortly?”

Ed looked worriedly between the two of them before leaving them alone.

“Do you cook, Roy?”

“I do my best,” Roy replied.  “I won’t be winning any awards for my efforts anytime soon, though.”

Hohenheim nodded.  “I’m not much of a cook myself but I hate to think about what they were eating while I was gone.  I’ve long suspected that Alphonse is the only reason that the fast food establishments around here stay in business.” He walked over to the kitchen table and pulled out a chair.  “Please, have a seat.”

Roy did as he was asked while Hohenheim sat down across from him.

“Edward tells me that you have a child?”

“A daughter, yes,” Roy confirmed.  “Her name is Elysia.”

Hohenheim’s brow furrowed momentarily, as if he was trying to remember something that he had forgotten.  Apparently unable to do so, he waved it off and continued. “Are you… in her life?”

“As much as possible.”

“How would you feel if she brought home someone almost twice her age?”

“I wouldn’t like it,” Roy admitted.  “But to be honest, I’m probably not going to like _anyone_ she dates.  Not at first, anyway.”

“I imagine it is a little different with daughters.” Hohenheim smiled thoughtfully. “Do you love Edward?” he asked.

“Yes.  Very much.”

“Good.”  Hohenheim chuckled.  “And you _do_ have the Alphonse Elric Seal of Approval working in your favor.”

Roy grinned.  “That’s good to know.”

Hohenheim’s expression grew serious, and he regarded Roy with the same golden eyes that he passed onto his firstborn.

“If not for you, I don’t know if Edward would have ever come home.”

“I… I didn’t really do anything,” Roy said.

“Oh, but you did,” Hohenheim insisted.  “My wife was able to die in peace because of you.  For that, I will always be in your debt.” 

Roy had no idea how to respond.  The last thing he ever expected from Ed’s father was gratitude.

Hohenheim stood up, bringing the conversation to an end.

“Alright then.  Let’s eat.”

*****

After dinner and cake were served and gifts were opened, Roy and Martel watched as Hohenheim joined the boys in a few rounds of Rock Band.  He performed surprisingly well.

Later, after Russ, Alfons, and Fletcher left, Al showed Roy the family photo album while Ed, Hohenheim, and Martel cleaned up.  Ed accused his brother of only doing so to get out of helping.  Al did not deny the claim.

After that, as Ed disappeared into his bedroom to pack a bag, Hohenheim introduced Roy to his extensive collection of books over wine that he brought back from Italy, and Al and Martel got cozy in the living room.  When Ed was done, everyone said their goodbyes, and he and Roy finally hopped into a cab en route to Roy’s hotel room.

“Was it bad?” Ed asked, resting his head on his lover’s shoulder.

Roy met the driver’s wide eyes in the rearview mirror.  The man quickly returned his attention to the road.  For his own well-being, it was the best thing he could do.

“I had a good time,” he said.

Ed’s hand came to rest on Roy’s thigh.  Roy immediately covered it with his own.

“I like your father,” he added.

“He’s… he’s okay.”

Roy bit back a smile.  Such a statement coming from Ed was actually a pretty huge declaration.

“So... Russ and Alfons, huh?”

“Yeah.”  Ed grinned.  “I think Russ is still in denial.”

“From what I know about him, that sounds about right.”

When they reached the hotel, they made their way through the lobby to the nearest elevator.  Fortunately, there weren’t many guests around at that hour, because the moment the elevator doors closed, Roy could not hold back any longer.  He backed Ed into a corner and kissed him for the four floor trip, stopping only when the elevator doors opened.

They managed to keep their hands off each other long enough to get to Roy’s room.  Once they were inside, Ed dropped his bag and grabbed onto Roy, and that they even made it across the room to the bed was nothing short of astounding.

After breaking through the frustrating barrier of their clothing--Roy was almost certain that his shirt had suffered irreparable damage when Ed practically tore it off--they were all over each other, kissing and licking and sucking and rubbing everything within reach.  Roy forced the teen onto his back and held him there, almost out of his mind with desire.  But as much as he wanted Ed, even stronger was his desire to pleasure him.  And so he did, teasing his way down Ed’s body until his mouth was filled with a hard, throbbing length.

Ed’s sharp cries echoed throughout the room.  Roy sucked him slowly, delighting in the sound and ignoring the desperate hands that clutched at his hair.  He stopped just long enough to grab a small bottle of lube from the overnight bag that he thankfully had the foresight to leave by the bed. He slicked his fingers and penetrated Ed one slow digit at a time until he was three deep in all of that lovely warmth, which was no easy feat when Ed was thrashing beneath him.

“Touch yourself,” he commanded from between Ed’s legs.  He wanted to see what he had imagined during their more intimate phone conversations over the past four weeks.

Ed reached down and wrapped his left hand around his cock, stroking it while Roy fingered him.  Roy ran his tongue along the inside of Ed’s thighs as he worked him open, and when he found what he was looking for, Ed groaned and clenched around him, his hips bucking frantically.

“ _Ohhhhhh…”_

Ed screamed when he came, causing Roy to briefly wonder if everyone on the planet heard him.  Not that he cared, not when he was entirely too mesmerized by the sight of the teen’s cock spurting all over his chest and stomach.

Carefully, he removed his fingers and worked his way back up Ed’s trembling body, licking him clean as he went.  Roy settled on top of him again, gently, so as not to crush him, and he weaved his fingers through the young man’s hair and kissed him again.  He was so hard by now that it hurt, but he waited until he felt a stirring against his hip before doing anything else.

Ed curled his legs around Roy, and Roy entered him with all the caution that he could muster.  He moaned into Ed’s neck as he waited for him to adjust.  After having anticipated this moment for so long, it was agonizing.   But it was also pure ecstasy.

Warm and cool hands locked around Roy’s neck, and he began to move gingerly, taking Ed in long, slow thrusts, sliding in and out of him in a mind-numbing rhythm.  He could already feel himself wanting to succumb, but he held out as long as he could, gazing down at Ed as he fucked him, watching him watch him.

After a while, Roy began to shudder, the sensation of delving repeatedly into the tight heat of Ed’s body becoming far too much for him to bear.  When Ed arched up, fingers grasping as he begged to be fucked harder,  Roy’s stamina unraveled and he let himself go, pounding into Ed until something in him exploded.  He grunted loudly as he came deep inside of him, only vaguely aware of the wetness now coating both of their abdomens.

Roy collapsed on top of him, his arms no longer able to hold him up.  He pulled out of Ed and fell beside him, holding him closely and panting into his hair.

 _“Damn,”_ he whispered. Sometime later, when he could speak again, he added, “I got you a present.”

Ed smiled against his chest.  “I thought _this_ was my present.”

Roy grinned tiredly.  He let go of Ed and fished the gift out of his bag.  Ed sat up with a wince and opened it.

“Who the hell is Rosetta Stone, anyway?”  he asked as he inspected the Japanese language program.

Roy shook his head.  “Clearly I need to have a talk with some of my teachers about their curriculum.”

*****

Ed opened his eyes.

He turned and looked at the blanketed lump dozing silently beside him.

And then he smiled.

He scooted close to Roy and slung his arm around the man’s waist, snuggling into his back.  While Ed could have remained like that all day, Roy would be leaving to meet Ms. Hawkeye for lunch later that morning.

The teen replayed the previous night in his head.  After a second time in the shower, an embarrassingly arousing semi-public romp on the balcony, and ending things back in bed where they had started, they spent the rest of the night talking and touching until they fell asleep.  He had been positively _high_ on Roy, and it was a feeling that he never wanted to lose.

Judging from the erection jutting from between his legs, the feeling was not going anywhere anytime soon.

He rubbed against Roy’s ass, humping at it shamefully, mortified by his own behavior but not so much that he wanted to stop.  His efforts ultimately paid off when he was presented with the bottle of lube.

Ed still felt a bit lacking in his skills when it came to taking the lead, but he definitely made up for it with his enthusiasm.  He prepared Roy as best he could, finding all kinds of inspiration in the way that the older man rocked on his fingers.  He lifted Roy’s leg and worked his way in from the side, whimpering into Roy's shoulder as he fucked him.  Roy guided Ed’s hand downward, curling it around his cock, and Ed stroked and thrust until Roy cried out into a pillow and came over Ed’s hand and the sheets.  Ed finished shortly after, clutching at Roy for dear life before eventually pulling out of him and flopping onto his back.

Roy rolled onto his stomach and smiled at the spent teen.

“Good morning to you too.”

Ed laughed.  Happy came nowhere close to describing the way that he felt right now.

It was all worth it.  Every single thing that had led them to this.  Both the good and the bad.

They were _finally_ free.

*****

_Ten years later:_

“Shit!” Ed screamed, madly waving his hand in the air after burning it when he grabbed the chicken from the oven.

“That’s not a nice word, Ed.”  Elysia wagged a scolding finger at him.  “Shame on you.”

“Says the girl who dropped an F-bomb the other day when we were driving home from the store?”

The sixteen-year-old smiled as she took a bottle of juice from the refrigerator and a few glasses from the cupboard.  “You didn’t tell Daddy Roy about that, did you?” she asked.

“Of course not.”  Ed kicked the oven door shut with gusto for the crime of burning him, as if it was the one at fault.  “Just try not to make a habit of it, okay?  You’re not supposed to know words like that.”

“But I learned half of them from you.”

“That’s beside the point.”

Elysia giggled and walked out of the kitchen, pausing just long enough to spare a kiss for her father, who had chosen that precise moment to poke his head in.

“I just had all sorts of fun trying to get the girls to stop singing the word _shit_ ,” he said.

Ed gaped at his lover, horrified.  “They heard me?”

“Half the city heard you.”

“Shit.”  Realizing what he said, Ed shook his head and tried again.  “Sorry.”

Roy came into the kitchen and gave Ed a backwards hug.  “I told them that you actually said _ship_ so now they’re singing that.  It’s ridiculously adorable.”  He helped himself to a piece of chicken, which won him a smack on the hand.  “Do you need help with anything?”

“Elysia and I can handle it,” Ed said.

Roy kissed him before leaving.  Even after a decade, it never got old.

Ed hoped like hell that it never would.

With no more oven or profanity mishaps to speak of, dinner went off without a hitch.  Roy and Ed sat at opposite ends of the dining room table with the girls scattered around them.  There was Elysia, of course, who was the spitting image of her mother with a joviality that was all Maes all the time; her ten-year-old half-sister Nina, Gracia and Vato’s daughter to whom Roy had become a most unexpected father figure after her parents divorced; and little Trisha, Al and Martel’s precocious four-year-old who had inherited not only Al’s looks, but his appetite as well, as evidenced in the way she put away both drumsticks by herself.

After dinner, Roy took care of cleaning while Ed had his turn keeping the crew company.  Trisha made herself comfortable on her uncle’s lap while they all watched cartoons and dug into gigantic bowls of ice cream.  Ed had cookies instead as he was still extremely grossed out by anything containing milk.

When Elysia finished hers, she quietly slipped into the kitchen…

*****

“Daddy Roy?”

Roy smiled at the sound of his daughter’s voice.  “Hm?”

The teenager took a seat at the kitchen table.  “I have something for you,” she announced.

“You do?”  Roy crammed her bowl into the dishwasher and closed it.  He then turned around and approached her.  “And what would this something be?”

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper.  “I wanted to wait until your birthday,” she explained as she handed it to him.  “But Mom said that I should do it before Nina opened her big mouth.”

“Is that how she put it?” Roy asked.

Elysia smirked.  It no longer hurt him to see it.

“Not exactly.”

“I didn’t think so.”

Roy unfolded the paper.  At first glance, he frowned in confusion.

“Honey, why am I looking at a copy of your social security card--”

Then he saw it.

He saw her name.

_Elysia Mustang-Hughes._

And he wondered if it was possible for a heart to break from joy.

“Oh, Leesee.”

Roy grabbed her into a crushing embrace.  He had been devastated when she took Vato’s last name.  And even though he had continually insisted that he did not need a piece of paper to know that she was his, seeing the name that he had always wanted for her in black and white and _legal_ was… just… indescribable.

He wiped his eyes before pulling back.  She touched his face with hands that were not as tiny as they used to be although still just as precious, and he died inside just a little bit more.

“This is the best gift that anyone has ever given me,” he said.  “ _Ever_.”

“Even better than the Mustang?” Elysia asked.

“Mm-hm.”  Roy kissed her gently on the forehead.  As he did, he thought of something. “You know what this means, don’t you?”

Elysia blinked curiously.  “What?”

“Now you can’t get married.”

“Yes, I can,” Elysia replied.  “I just won’t change my name.”

“Damn.”

“Daddy Roy…”

“It beats the F-bomb you dropped the other day,” Roy pointed out.

“You knew about that?!”

He laughed at his daughter’s look of terror.

“You were right,” he said.  “Nina really _does_ have a big mouth.”

*****

Roy sat on the bed and shuffled through a stack of papers that did not look remotely familiar.  “What the hell are these?”

“Those would be my lesson plans,” Ed replied, taking them from him.  “Yours are in the living room.”  He placed them on the dresser where they would keep until Monday morning.  “Quite possibly with an ice cream smudge or two,” he added under his breath.

“Figures.  Are the girls in bed?”

“Yep.”  Ed closed the bedroom door and locked it.  It was the wise thing to do with inquiring minds in the house.  “Trisha’s passed out.  Elysia and Nina are still awake and looking for Waldo.”

Roy stretched and yawned.  “Did you talk to Al or Martel?” he asked.

“Ugh.”  Ed sighed.  “Apparently they missed their plane and ended up having to stay an extra day because Russ and Alfons got into an argument over some guy named Ling and they broke up and then they got back together and then… I don’t even want to know.”  He pulled out his hair tie and tossed it on top of the dresser alongside his lesson plans.  He then walked over to where Roy sat and stood between his legs, threading his fingers through his hair to loosen it.  “Anyway, Dad said that we can leave Trisha with him so that we can hit the road on time.”

“And _this_ is why we don’t go anywhere with Russ and Alfons,” Roy said, running his fingers through Ed’s hair to help him along.

Ed chuckled as he leaned into Roy’s soothing touch.  He let his arms wrap lazily around the other man’s neck and took a step closer to him, gazing down into that beautiful face.  Roy rested his head against Ed’s chest, listening to the sound of his heartbeat.

This naturally led to unbuttoning Ed’s pajama top and licking him all over until--

_“Daddy Roy!”_

Roy paused, his hands hooked in the waistband of the pajama bottoms he was just about to pull down.

That girl.  She never did have good timing.

“Yes?” he called out to the door.

_“Okay, so…”_

After years in the field of education, Roy knew that it was almost never a good thing when teenagers started sentences with those two words.

_“… Nina couldn’t find Waldo so I told her that he was hiding in the closet--”_

“Elysia!”

 _“I_ know _.  So now she won’t let me turn out the lights until you come and promise her that he’s not there since she won’t believe me.”_

Roy slapped a hand to his head.  He really couldn't blame Nina.  Waldo _was_ kind of creepy.

“I’ll be right there.”

“Have fun,” Ed said, entirely too amused by the situation in spite of the clear state of emergency in his pants.  He crawled into the bed, stretched out, and smiled at his partner.  “Just so you know, I’m starting without you.”

Roy groaned and stood up.  He left the bedroom and made his way down the hallway to bravely ward off imaginary evil as only parents could do.

After verifying that every single inch of the girls’ bedroom was Waldo-free, he returned to bed to find that Ed had indeed started without him.  He stripped down to nothing, shut off the light, and slid under the covers beside him.

Luckily, it did not take him long at all to catch up.

An hour later, Roy unlocked the bedroom door and fell back into bed, exhausted.  An automail arm and flesh leg found their way around him,  grabbing him possessively, and he closed his eyes and listened to the sound of nothing until he finally fell asleep.

*****

The following morning, they started the day by taking Trisha to Hohenheim’s house.  They stayed for a cup of coffee, which gave Elysia and Nina just enough time to sweet talk their Papa Hoho into giving them money.  Ed accused his father of being a pushover, as if he was completely innocent of spoiling them as well.

Then they made the ten hour road trip to the place they once called home.  When they returned the girls to their mother, Roy pulled Gracia aside and thanked her.  He instinctively hugged her, and afterwards they both pretended that it did not happen.

After that, they stopped by Lou’s place.  Over dinner, he told them of the new woman in his life. Ed finally admitted that he had read Izumi’s letter four years earlier and that he had forgiven her completely.  No one knew what became of Sig.  And no one gave a damn.

They ended their long day at Roy’s old house, which was now Jean’s house.  Fuery was still living with him.  Roy was appalled to see that they turned Elysia’s bedroom into a sex dungeon-type room, although Jean swore that the devices were exercise equipment.  Winry and Sheska came over and a good time was had by all, in spite of Jean’s perving.

The next day, Roy and Ed went home.  When they got there, they went on and on about all the sex that they were going have.  They fell asleep instead.

Two weeks later, Roy found his first grey hair.  Ed laughed but said that it made him sexy.  Because really it did.  That time, they did not fall asleep.

Six months down the road, they adopted a puppy.  Elysia named her Den.

Fourteen months after that and a week shy of Ed’s thirtieth birthday, Roy proposed.  Ed accepted and then lovingly reminded him that he had worried for nothing.  Russ and Alfons fought at the wedding.  They were discovered later making up in a closet.  Jean hit on Riza.  Riza hit on him in return.  With her gun.

Roy became a grandfather at fifty-six.  The baby’s name was May Rose, an anagram in honor of her mother’s two fathers.   He cried the first time he held her.

And so on. Day after day.  Month after month.  Year after year.

They did not live happily ever after.  But they lived, as long as time allowed them and as happily as they could.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End... only not, lol.
> 
> What follows after this chapter are additional one-shots. Some are side stories that take place within the timeline of the story proper, others are glimpses of the past or future. (Speaking of the past, I'm presently in the middle of a Maes/Roy prequel that I will post here when done.) 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading this story. Whether you've been here before or this is your first time, it means a lot to me. 
> 
> NCF


	39. Bonus - Small World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> During a trip to Japan, Hohenheim overhears a little girl talking to her Daddy Roy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A Hoho-centric short fic that takes place after Gracia and Elysia move to Japan.

Hohenheim sat by himself at a table in one of the area’s finer café and sushi bars, chewing thoughtfully on an empty pipe as he perused a newspaper that was printed in a language he could barely understand. It was his last night in Japan; he would be on a plane for Italy the first thing tomorrow morning.

Although expected, Hohenheim was still disappointed that the boys hadn’t expressed a dire need to have him return home.  In the few rushed conversations he’d had with them since leaving, he could fully sense their ability to survive without him. Not surprising coming from Ed, but he had hoped that at least Al would have asked him to come home sooner. 

But no, they were getting along just fine.  It was just as well; they were practically men now anyway.

He sighed and glanced around the establishment, seeking out his Western counterparts. Young lovers were sampling a wide and colorful variety of items at one table.  An older gentleman was speaking, or rather flirting, with a server across the room at another.  And at the table directly in front of from him…

“What time is it there, Daddy Roy?”

She was quite beautiful, the little girl on her cell phone. Hohenheim guessed that she couldn’t have been more than six or seven years old. 

And did she just smirk? How cute.

Hohenheim stroked his beard, lost in thought. Roy… why did that name sound so familiar to him?

_Roy… Roy… Roy…_

Ah, yes.  It was the name of Ed’s… male friend.  The man who had already spent a weekend at the house. 

The principal. 

Despite his reservations about the nature of Edward's relationship with a man of that age and position, Hohenheim grinned, imagining what a coincidence it would be if the Roy that the little girl was speaking to with such glowing adoration was the same as his son’s.

It was indeed a small world, but that would be too surreal.

Hohenheim looked to the little girl’s mother, who watched her daughter with a pinched expression.  Perhaps this Roy was her ex-husband.  Not wanting to appear nosy, he looked down at his newspaper and continued listening to the child speak to her father. 

What would it have been like, he wondered, to have had a daughter?  Would she have looked like Trisha, much like Al?  Or would she have resembled him and Ed? 

He took off his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut against tears. 

He then stood up abruptly. After putting his glasses back on, he tossed the unread paper onto the table and shoved the pipe into his pocket while the little girl lectured her father about getting rest.

“Elysia, why don’t you let Daddy Roy go to bed now?” the mother asked, obviously not caring one way or the other if the man got any sleep. It must have been a nasty divorce.

_Elysia... what a beautiful name_ , Hohenheim thought. He tried not to wonder what he and Trisha would have named a daughter of their very own. He already had a lifetime of could-have-beens to deal with; there was no point in thinking of more.

He spared the little girl one last glance before walking out of the bar. She slowly dissipated from his thoughts altogether until years later, when he would finally meet his son’s lover’s daughter for the first time.

It was a small world after all.


	40. Bonus - Moving In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roy and Ed finally move in together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A quick and smutty one-shot written for Roy/Ed Day 2013.

It was official.  Ed hated boxes.  All boxes.  Every single size, every single shape, every single color, every single… whatever.  And if he lived the rest of his life without ever having to look at another box again, that was fine by him.  
  
Unfortunately, that would not be the case.  At least not until he and Roy managed to unpack the ones that presently filled almost every room of their new house.  
  
After seeing Al off, Ed sank to the floor of the living room and leaned back against… yep, a box.  Although the couch and chairs were present and accounted for, it was nearly impossible to reach them because of the fortress of boxes that surrounded them.  Therefore the floor would have to do for now.  
  
“Good grief,” he muttered, kicking off his shoes and digging his toes into the plush caramel-colored carpet.  “I can’t believe you own so much stuff.”  
  
Roy emerged from the kitchen with two sodas.  Cold ones, luckily, as the refrigerator was still accessible, albeit tragically bare.  “Neither can I,” he replied as he weaved his way through the cardboard maze that led into the living room.  He then sat down beside Ed and offered him a drink.  “Here you go.”  
  
“Thanks.”  
  
They cracked open their cans and drank in silence, staring at their surroundings and enjoying the cool central air.  Roy slid his arm around Ed’s waist and pulled him close, and Ed let his head fall to Roy’s shoulder, his loose blond hair spilling down his lover’s arm.  And just like that, his annoyance faded away.  
  
Because Roy was there.  Finally.  For good.  
  
Much had changed over the two years it had taken them to get to this point.  Ed was twenty years old now, and soon to begin his junior year of college.  He had recently decided to pursue a career in education.   An ironic choice, perhaps, for someone who had once hated the very idea of being in a classroom with a passion because of the cruelness of others.   As for Roy, he had accepted a teaching position at Ed’s old high school and was set to start in the fall.  While he would be taking a cut in pay, he was eager to work in a classroom setting again, molding the leaders of tomorrow instead of just reprimanding and suspending them.  
  
It was a far cry from their complicated beginnings, when a principal who never thought he would find love again met a physically and emotionally tortured teenager who had no idea _how_ to love.  But in spite of it all, from age differences to long distances, they managed to stay together.  And now they could finally _be_ together.  
  
Roy blew against a tuft of hair that was tickling his nose.  “Damn,” he said.  “I forgot to pay Al before he left.”  
  
“Pay him for what?” Ed asked.  “He brought three fucking boxes into the house and spent the rest of his time going through your video games.”  
  
Roy chuckled into his drink, unable to deny the claim.  Even at the age of nineteen, Al was still very much Al.  
  
Ed sat upright with a grunt.  “Did you tell him yet?  That you’re going to give all of that stuff to him?”  
  
“Not yet.”  
  
“He’s going to freak out.”  
  
Roy wasn’t so sure about that, although he admitted a certain ignorance when it came to that sort of thing.  For instance, he had no idea that the James Bond Goldeneye game for the old Nintendo 64 system was “like, the coolest video game ever made!” At least according to Al.  
  
After resting for a little while longer, the couple ordered dinner.  Roy rummaged around until he found a lamp and they ate right there on the floor, using a box of books as a makeshift table.  Afterwards, they started the slow and painful process of unpacking.  Given the late hour, they didn’t make much progress, but by the time they were finished, they were able to relax on the couch, which was good enough.  
  
“This is going to take forever,” Ed moaned.  He stretched out along the length of the couch, bringing his feet to rest on top of Roy’s thighs.  “Can we please never move again?”  
  
Roy smirked as he gently stroked Ed’s right foot.  “That’s the plan.”  
  
Ed lifted his head and found the older man staring back at him.  
  
“What is it?” Roy asked.  
  
And as was the case so many times before where Roy was concerned, Ed was overcome by a fierce wave of affection.  He was so in love with Roy that he hardly felt capable of holding it in, and he was so happy that he just didn’t know what to do.  
  
Well, no… that wasn’t _entirely_ true.  
  
“Come here,” he said quietly.  
  
Roy smiled and did as he was told, sliding atop Ed’s body until they were face to face.  Gentle kisses soon gave way to more eager and urgent ones, with their hands grabbing and their legs intertwined, until Ed was all but drowning in the sofa’s thick cushions as a result of their combined desperation.  
  
“Maybe we should take this to the bed,” he managed sometime later, breathlessly.  
  
“We don’t have a bed yet,” Roy murmured against his shoulder.  
  
“Oh yeah.”  Ed had completely forgotten that the new one wouldn’t be delivered until the next day.  “I guess this will have to do.”  
  
“As long as you don’t fall off,” Roy added with a grin, in reference to a long ago time.  Their first time.  
  
Cringing at the memory, Ed pulled Roy into another long, searing kiss in an effort to forget.  Shirts and pants were quickly shed and flung aside, leaving nothing but the mind-melting friction of skin on metal and skin.  Roy gripped the arm of the couch and used it for leverage as he bore down between Ed’s parted legs, grinding hard on top of him, their throbbing cocks sliding together against their lower abdomens in a growing pool of slickness.  
  
Ed broke their kiss, not because he wanted to but because he could no longer contain the cries that escaped him with every thrust.  He locked his legs around Roy’s back and wrapped his arms around him, fingers digging in, and when Roy licked a wet trail from his neck to his ear and ordered him to come in that low and sexy voice, he did, howling at the ceiling and spurting in hot streams between them.  Moments later, Roy followed suit with a shuddering groan, rubbing against Ed’s softening length and spilling onto his stomach.  
  
They remained that way for minutes afterwards, clinging and clutching each other.   Eventually, Roy raised his head and stared down into Ed’s flushed face.  
  
“And to think we get to do this every day now,” he said.  
  
Ed laughed and gave him a push, and this time it was Roy who toppled to the floor.  
  
“Consider that payback.”  
  
*****  
  
Later, they settled in for the night, awkwardly snug in Elysia’s _My Little Pony_ sleeping bag.  
  
Ed closed his eyes and nuzzled against Roy’s chest, breathing in the scent of him and contemplating this new beginning.  Gone were the days when he would lose sleep in hopes of prolonging the moment as he had done so often over the past two years. Roy would not be leaving him come morning to go home.  
  
Roy was _already_ home.  
  
With a soft yawn, Ed gradually succumbed to his exhaustion.  There would be plenty of time to wallow in happiness later.  
  
After they unpacked all those goddamn boxes.


	41. Bonus - What Makes a Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elysia's visiting and Ed doesn't want to intrude.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short and sweet one-shot for Roy/Ed Day 2014.

From his seat on the park bench, Ed gazed out at the playground area, his eyes passing over dozens upon dozens of screaming and laughing children until he found the one that he was looking for.  
  
There was Elysia, running gleefully towards the monkey bars, her ponytail bobbing wildly behind her head. She had just started wearing her hair that way, after making a grand announcement that ten-year-olds were too old for pigtails, and while Ed had just shrugged okay and went with the flow (something he was learning to do more often where she was concerned), he also knew that Roy was a tad bit heartbroken by the gesture, which was an undeniable sign that his little girl was starting to grow up.  
  
His heart leapt into his throat while she maneuvered her way up and through the bars with seemingly little regard for her own safety. After he was certain that she wasn’t going to break anything important, he shook his head and breathed a huge sigh of relief, then turned to the man sitting beside him.  
  
“How do you not worry that she’s going to fall on her head or something?” he asked.  
  
“Are you kidding? I worry about that _all_ the time.” Roy looked at him and smiled knowingly. “Welcome to parenthood.”  
  
Ed tried to relax as Roy wrapped an arm around him. They continued observing the commotion and waved accordingly when Elysia shouted for their attention from the top of the monkey bars and informed them that she was the queen of the world.  
  
“Before I forget,” Roy began, absentmindedly stroking Ed’s left shoulder. “She wants to go out for ice cream after this.”  
  
“Okay,” Ed replied. “You can just drop me off at home first.”  
  
Roy stared at him with a raised brow. “Ed, I know you hate milk but that doesn’t mean you have to ditch us.”  
  
“It’s not that. It’s just that…”  
  
“Just what?”  
  
Ed watched Elysia complete a stomach-turning dismount from the bars before scampering off to the slide, her ponytail bounce-bounce-bouncing behind her.  
  
“I just figured that the two of you would want some father-daughter time,” he explained. “You don’t get to see her a lot, and I don’t want to get in the way of what little time you _do_ get to spend with her.”  
  
It was something that had bugged Ed for quite a while now, the suspicion that he was intruding on Roy and Elysia’s precious moments. And now that he had voiced his opinion on the matter, he waited, curious and somewhat concerned about how Roy might respond.  
  
The last thing he expected was laughter.  
  
“What’s so funny?” Ed wanted to know.  
  
“I felt the same way back when Maes and I first got together,” Roy explained, his amused expression fading into a look of contemplation. “Elysia was his daughter and I was just some guy who happened to be living with him. That’s what I thought.”  
  
Ed nodded in agreement. That was exactly how he felt now. But it never occurred to him that Roy had once felt the same way. He was such a great father that Ed sometimes forgot Elysia was not his biological child.  
  
“You’re not just some guy, Ed. You’re my _partner_. Don’t ever think that you have to exclude yourself from _any_ part of my life.” Roy tightened his hold on Ed and added, “Besides, Elysia loves you. Almost as much as I do, I think.”  
  
He leaned over and kissed Ed on the lips, just in time for Elysia to come running over to them and accuse Roy of giving Ed cooties.  
  
“Hey, Ed likes my cooties,” Roy insisted.  
  
Elysia scrunched her nose and then burrowed her way between the two men. “Can we get ice cream now?” she begged. “Please, please, please, _pleeeeeeeeease_?”  
  
Ed looked at Roy, who merely shrugged and smirked. What else could they do? The queen had spoken.  
  
They left the park and went to a mom-and-pop parlor that supposedly served the best ice cream in town. Ed wouldn’t have known because he still firmly believed that 99.9% of all dairy products were evil. There must have been some truth to the rumor, considering the way that Roy and Elysia devoured their sundaes. Ed helped himself to the cherry from Roy’s--after wiping off all traces of ice cream, of course--and almost choked on it when Roy made a subtle yet suggestive comment about tongues and cherry stems that thankfully sailed right over the girl's head.  
  
After that, they headed home, where Ed and Elysia entertained themselves by reading and chatting and braiding each other’s hair while Roy made dinner.  
  
Later that night, the three of them got comfortable on the couch and viewed Disney movies until Elysia fell asleep sprawled between them, with her head resting on Ed’s thigh and one tiny foot propped high on Roy’s shoulder.  
  
Ed peered down at her sleeping face and was consumed by a wave of affection, one that would not be matched until two years later when Martel gave birth to his niece. He then glanced up and found Roy watching him, and the lovers smiled at one another while an animated teapot and clock and candlestick rambled away on the television.  
  
So they weren’t a traditional family.  But that didn’t matter because they were still a family all the same.  
  
And Ed was very happy to be a part of it.


	42. Prequel Bonus - Unexpected Guest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roy gets a surprise visitor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short post-Maes, pre-Jean story.

There were the occasional moments, rare and random ones spread out over the past few years, when Roy had wished for silence.  Times when Elysia was being a bit too rambunctious or Maes was being the silly git that he could sometimes be, times when Roy just wanted a few minutes without the loving chaos that had become his way of life. 

Well he had it now. 

And it hurt him in a way that made physical torture seem enviable. 

Maes had been on his way home after stopping to pick up some ice cream.  Neapolitan.  Three flavors for the three of them.  They were going to curl up on the couch and watch that cute cartoon movie about the lost little fish.  Elysia would have fallen asleep halfway through like she usually did.  Roy would have carried her to bed and tucked her in with one of her thousand stuffed animals.  And Maes would have insisted that the dishes could wait and dragged him off to the bedroom where hours would pass before they actually fell asleep.

But instead, he was dead.  Killed in a car accident that did not have to happen, two weeks ago tomorrow and less than five months away from his daughter’s birthday. 

They had planned on giving her a puppy. 

Roy squeezed his eyes shut against the sting of tears although the imagery remained, taunting him with the possibility of a time that would never come to pass and reminding him once more of all the things that would _never happen again._ He curled into a ball on the couch, the same as he had done for the past three days since Gracia took Elysia away, crying and screaming for her Daddies.  He was too sad to be angry and too heartbroken to hate.  The unbearable agony of loss consumed him completely.   It did not seem likely, it did not seem _right_ that a man could suffer this much pain and still go on living—

A loud and persistent knock jolted him out of his miserable rumination. 

Roy sat up with a sigh and wiped his face.  He did not want to answer the door and thought he might scream if someone else offered him their condolences.  But he would grit his teeth and bear it one more time, smiling and nodding at all the right pauses with all the fake reassurances of his well-being that he could muster.

He slowly made his way to the door and opened it. 

“… Jean?”

“Hey Boss.”  Jean Havoc offered Roy a slight nod of greeting, with a burning cigarette in one hand and a case of beer in the other.  “I kind of figured that you could use a drink.”

The scenario was so far removed from anything Roy was expecting that at first he could only gape at the tall man with haphazard blond hair whose definition of expressing sympathy was apparently synonymous with alcohol.

He did not necessarily care to have company. 

However… maybe a temporary diversion would not be such a bad thing after all.  Anything to distract from his grief, to break the sound of all that god-awful silence, if only for a little while.   
  
“Sure,” Roy muttered, taking a step back.  “Come in.”  
  
A few beers.  After that, he would send Jean on his way.  
  
What harm could possibly come from that?


End file.
